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clamorous that at first Alandra did not notice the knocking at the door to her room until an annoyed voice echoed it.
    "Alandra!  Alandra, are you in there?  Open this door!  Open this door, I say." 
    There could be no denying that it was her father who called her.  His raspy voice was one of a kind so wrapping a thin beige cloak about her night dress, Alandra hurried to comply with her father's command.  The dimly lit corridor was now deserted, but even so her father's next words were whispered.
    "Get your belongings together, daughter." 
    Deep frown lines creased his brow, the blue eyes which stared back at her were dilated with fear, and his trembling fingers pulled at his beard in agitation.
    "What has happened?  Father, tell me!" 
    Taking his arm, she drew him into the room and closed the door behind them to insure their privacy.
    "A man has been murdered tonight.”
    "I know.  I heard the gossip through the door.  But what has that to do with us?"  The fear that her father had been somehow involved made her own hands quiver.
    "Calm your fears," he said a bit more gently, sensing her alarm.  "We are not in any actual danger, it is just that I do not want to become involved in a matter of this kind.  I suppose like all the others I am a coward, but what if someone were to recognize us as having been at the palace tonight, of witnessing all that went on there?  They might suppose we were aware of what happened here as well.  Our being here might very well be construed as being overly suspicious!  God help us if they thought we were involved in some sort of a plot." 
    As if his words had exhausted him, he plopped down on a wooden stool near the bed, wringing his hands in the manner he always effected when he was nervous. "Someone killed a nobleman, one who was at Whitehall this very night."
    "Who, Father?  Who was killed this night?  Tell me." 
    For just a moment Alandra dreaded that perhaps it was the dark-haired nobleman.  Oh, what a loss if that one's heart had permanently been stilled.
    " Lord Woodcliff, advisor to the queen and well renowned through the realm.  The entire courtyard is in an uproar, searching for his assailant."
    "Lord Woodcliff?"  She suddenly remembered.  "The old man."
    Murray looked at her with an amused smile upending his frown.  "Have a care, daughter.  Lord Woodcliff was a man of but a few years more than myself.  BiGod I hate to think of myself as aged.  Advanced in years perhaps...."  He shrugged his shoulders.
    "But who did the deed?"
    "I do not know nor do I care a farthing!  I've already packed the wagon so that we may leave this place before we learn more than we want to know." 
    Standing up , he walked in two long strides to the door, pausing to look back at her before he opened it.  "Meet me in the courtyard."
    "But won't our hurrying away make us the target of suspicion?"
    "We will have to take that chance."  His brows shot up as he suddenly grinned.  "We are theater people.  Has it not been said many times that all such players are unpredictable and eccentric?  In all probability we will be allowed to pass. We will just insist that we are giving a performance early tomorrow morning." 
    Forcing a laugh , he walked through the door, slamming it steadfastly behind him, leaving Alandra to her meditative silence.
                 

Chapter Five
     
     
    Hidden behind a large rain barrel, Nicholas could hear the sound of running feet and curses.  Cautiously , he peered out. The inn’s square courtyard was the scene of total pandemonium.  The night's events had drawn a curious crowd who hovered about the guardsmen like moths to a flame, chattering their questions.  They seemed oblivious to the surly behavior of the armed men as they thronged the courtyard, trying to find out what had happened.  Nicholas blessed the guests from the inn, every one, for creating confusion.  For the time being, they were hindering the process of his being found