Page 24 of Rogue of the Greenwood
“But if this isn’t Locksley money, where did it come from?” he asked the boy, afraid that he knew the answer.
“Balford said that’s not important. He’s just glad that you’re back, sir. It’s been awful sad around here, when we all thought you were dead. There was no telling what would happen to us! And with Mr. Gisborn being like he is… well, I know you’re going to make everything right again.”
Robert didn’t much care for the sound of that. Just what did the boy think he could do, hiding out here in the forest with little more than a bag of coins and three tired friends? If Gisborn truly did have such a hold over Locksley’s estate, then he surely wasn’t going to welcome his master back. Gisborn was likely very happy to have Robert dead. No doubt he would much rather keep him that way, at any cost.
“Very well, Henry. I thank you. We haven’t much to offer here, but a few bits of fish we’ve cooked up. Why don’t you come in and tell me something more about how things have been in my absence?”
The lad was agreeable, and Robert led him inside. He’d find out what he knew about Gisborn—his comings and goings—and hear about the condition of his estate. Most importantly, he’d stress the importance of secrecy. It was good of Balford to send the boy, but he needed to understand just how tenuous their situation was. Robert was not eager to give Gisborn reason to make another attempt on his life.
They fed the boy fish and Alan played him sometunes on his guitar. The boy claimed he had never seen such an instrument before and was fascinated by it. Throughout their conversation Robert asked about various aspects of the estate—were the tenants kept well, had the lands been left to go fallow, were there ever strangers visiting the manor.
That last question brought an unusual answer. “Oh yes, sir! Mr. Gisborn seems to have men coming quite often. They just tell us it is for business, but he never needs anyone to tend them. No one takes them tea, or anything from the kitchen. And Mr. Gisborn sends all the housemaids away, too, not that he keeps very many of them now. But poor Balford… well, I was helping carry the rugs out for beating one day and I saw Mr. Gisborn give him such a tongue lashing! He claimed no one was to ever go into the office, not even to tidy things up. He does all his meetings in there and keeps the door locked like a vault. Not even Mr. Balford can get in, and he has the keys for everything. Well, I think Mr. Gisborn would love to get rid of Balford, if he could. He says the old man needs to be more respectful of his new master, now that you’re dead. But only you aren’t dead, sir! Oh, won’t Mr. Gisborn be riled when he learns that.”
“It’s very important that he doesn’t learn this, Henry,” Robert said, quick to diffuse his excitement. “You must help me and keep our secret for a while longer. Can you do that?”
“Of course, sir! Even if Mr. Gisborn calls his friends to throw me in gaol, I won’t say a word about you.”
“Gaol? I doubt Mr. Gisborn would have any reason to do that to you.”
Henry merely shrugged. “He put my Pa in the gaol.That’s why Balford brought me here to work in the manor. My Ma needed to go work at your looms to pay the fee to get my pa out of gaol.”
“My looms? I haven’t got a mill.”
“Of course you do—that factory you had them set up when you first left for the wars,” Henry said, although Robert could make little sense of it. “I heard my Mum and Pa talking about it. At first Pa was worried some folks would be put out of work over it, but then things started to get bad and people talked about how they were glad for the work there. I don’t think they stayed very glad about it, though. All I ever see are the ones who get sent to work there and never get paid very much. Don’t ever get to leave it much, either. I don’t know how long my Ma has to work there before she can pay for my Pa.”
“Why did your father get sent to gaol, Henry?” Robert asked.
“I don’t know. Probably taxes. It seems to be what everyone goes to gaol for, then somebody has to work in the factory to pay for their fines. Unless you say something bad about the magistrate; I think you get sent off to gaol for that, too. I know at the manor everyone always whispers so that Mr. Gisborn won’t hear nothing. He’s friends with the magistrate, you know. He comes to meet him there sometimes, brings the sheriff along with him, too. I’ve also seen them down at the factory when I’ve gone to check on my Mum. I think the magistrate is in charge there, at least all the people are afraid of him.”
“I’ll bet they are,” Robert grumbled.
So not only was Gisborn in league with St. John, he had some sort of business set up with him. But why did young Henry seem to think Robert had somethingto do with it? He certainly gave no instructions—or finances—to establish a factory. Nottinghamshire had seen too many troubles from factories; violence, Luddite uprisings, and all sorts of damaging activities in the recent past. Robert supported progress, of course, but not at the expense of hard-working people. He would have never tried to profit from the very thing that was destroying livelihoods and turning neighbor against neighbor. Obviously, this was just one more of Gisborn’s treacheries.
“Robert… we’ve got more company,” Alan called from his post at the window.
“It’s not Mr. Gisborn, is it?” Henry asked, suddenly white as a sheet.
“No, you’re safe, lad,” Alan assured. “I can see them now. It’s John and Will. I say… it looks like they’ve brought some others.”
“Others? Who are they?” Robert questioned.
“Friends, I hope,” Alan replied.
Robert sighed and reached for his knife again.
Chapter 8
Meg was too upset for conversation on most of their hurried walk home. Marianne tried to engage her, but the poor girl was very distraught. When she did speak, all she would do was moan about how Robin Hood was going to murder her father.
It was no sense trying to reason with her, so Marianne could do nothing more than offer sympathy and a listening ear.
“No matter what those men were discussing at the mill, I’m sure no one has any plans to murder your father,” she said when they were far enough from any passersby to ensure no one might eavesdrop.
“Oh, but he has so many enemies! Truly, Marianne, it’s as I told you before; you don’t know him like I do. Papa can be kind and generous, but he is a very ambitious man and he will let nothing stand in his way. I fear he has done awful things to people who have not supported him.”
“What sort of things?”
Meg glanced around, nervous and trembling. “I’ve heard things; people in town talk about Papa sometimes. They say their friends and family just disappear sometimes—they turn up in gaol for all sorts of reasons, or they are forced to work in factory to pay for their crime. I’m sure Papa is to blame; it is why he has all the secret meetings with Mr. Reeve and Mr. Gisborn. They are in business together, you know. But I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
