Work Text:
" But my bare hands paved their paths
You don't get to tell me about sad
… If you wanted me dead, you should've just said"
T.S.
Theo and Mr. Harris 2 p.m.
After she left; he had done as best as he could to gather himself, he would not deny it hurt him to listen to her calling his name, her voice broken, apologetic, "Theo". But he had not turned back to face her, if he had done so, he knew he would not resist from taking her into his arms, and soothing her with apologies over the hurt his own words had caused.
The dawn of a new day had come and with it his resolution to move on, fate had been on his side for the better part of the day, Mr. Harris had pulled him aside; for the first time in what seemed like ages, smiling down on him, as he pulled a rumpled letter from his pants, handing it to him when he had just made his way back from the bakery where he'd been sent to procure a loaf of bread so he and his employer could improvise a meagre meal, "it came whilst you were gone, the man who delivered it said its a contract for you to revise, apparently Mr. Lewis is willing to hand you a down payment if you'd like to put together a book with your scribblings".
Theo gulped, incredulity lighted his features, eyes widened in surprise, but there it was, ink to paper, a signature over a stamp, he only needed accept, and then he would find himself in a better position than his current one, as a mere printer's apprentice.
The boy was not smiling, Mr. Harris was not as oblivious as to not notice, any other day, he would have grabbed at the paper and thrown his head back in laughter, "What is it? It's the money not good?"
"No, no, it is rather very generous, the timeframe too", Theo replied to his current employer.
"Then? The guild papers will come by next week, you'll be officially free to move on from here, these are good news, why are you not happy boy?"
"I am, of course", Theo replied in what seemed like an automated motion.
Mr. Harris shook his head, he was not surprised at the front the boy tried to put on; Theo's smile had not reached his eyes, as talented a writer as he was, the boy did not know how to act, his words did nothing to convince the man that had been paid to teach him the printing trade when he'd been just about to turn fourteen years of age. It been nearly five years since the boy's uncle had deposited Theodore Sharpe under his care, and despite, perhaps erroneously, not performing the part of the father he lost, he tried his best to do good by him, perhaps he could have done better, but he had tried. He was not strange to bereavement, but neither one to dwell on it, hence his approach to keep the boy occupied as to not let his mind wonder, on the father who perished in that carriage accident, nor the mother who survived it, only for her to pass some days after from injuries that could not be healed, of the uncle who could not bear to look at him, for he saw in his eyes those of the sister that would never look back onto his.
"You know what boy?" Mr. Harris inquired, moving close over to place his palm over Theo's shoulder, when the later shook his head in the negative, "let us go over to the coffee house, I can help you look over Mr. Lewis proposal if you like, may not have gone to one of those fancy lord's school's; but I do know my numbers and my way around a contract. You can buy me lunch in repayment at that fancy "Rules" food place over Maiden Lane when you're famous".
"What about work?" Theo inquired.
"We are ahead of schedule, and tis not every day we have a reason to celebrate, nor that I am in a good enough mood to pay, but even if the money that came from that gossip rag was good, not having to deal with that ginger chit has definitely improved my mood". This time Mr. Harris words did bring about a snort from Theo, if his employer only knew, not wanting to speak on the subject, he acquiesced, "Aye, I'd appreciate another set of eyes revising the contract, my uncle though, I am not yet twenty-one".
"Ah, if that is your concern", started Mr. Harris, thinking that to be the reason behind Theo's lack of enthusiasm, "I will have words with the man, do not worry about that boy, it will work out".
"Let us go", Mr. Harris replied, after he would take his apron off and walk to the door of the Chancery Lane printshop; they would be coming back in a couple hours, but in the meantime, he took care to secure the lock as the door closed behind him.
Cressida Cowper 10:30 a.m .
The scandal had spread like a wildfire in the country side during a drought, it could not have been otherwise; Lady Wisthledown had not wasted anytime in using her quill to spell out the deceit of the recently anointed Lord Fetherington, who in his one act of decency had renounced his title before calling tails and fleeing back to the Americas.
The gossip rag contained of course other pieces of information that did not concern her immediately, but the knowledge that she had been used in a way by a certain Mr. Bridgerton, who was lauded for uncovering the fraudster that was Jack Fetherington, and also called out on his ungentlemanly and unkind behaviour for stating that he would never consider courting Miss Penelope Fetherington made Cressida's blood boil.
It was not that she actually cared about Colin Bridgerton or the fake flirting that he had employed on her, she was a smart enough woman to know that he cared not for her, but rather it was that amongst all of the other women present whom he could have recurred to in order to seek the evidence he wanted, he'd gone to her, as if she would be the most gullible. Had it not been for her mother's insistence in seeking to align her family with the Bridgeton’s in the hopes that her aunt could once again show her face at court, she would not have given the third Bridgerton son the time of the day, not that he would ever look at her, but the second son was so much more to her taste.
Damn Caroline Lamb, her aunt, damn her to the end of earth, if she had effectively married for love why was it that she had to go on to have an affair with Lord Byron? Also damn that coward Duke of Devonshire who had done nothing to disavow the rumours spread around her father's sister, blasting her as a loose woman who broken his heart, his dear friend Prinny commiserated with the man, making up a story of heartbreak in his mind, and hence came, the disgrace upon Caroline's name. Cressida wanted to be anywhere but at the Bridgerton's parlour, especially since visiting hours were still far away; it was mere luck that her mother had acquired the title of Countess whilst the last season took place, at least holding superiority over the Bridgerton's in rank allowed them both not to be dismissed as it would of been the case had they been lesser than them in station, forced to leave their card and only coming back upon invitation of the lady of the house.
She did not want anything to do with the conversation that was to take place between her mother and the Viscountess Bridgerton, Emily Cowper, would downgrade herself to request from the Bridgerton matriarch that she intervene to solicit from her third son discretion. That is, leave out the Cowper's name from the conversations he was sure to engage on, when speaking of how he, Colin Bridgerton, a mere third son had become a hero, uncovering before the poor 'defenceless' and 'innocent' Fetherington ladies the new Lord Fetherington's frauds by means of using her necklace. Any, and all hope of Caroline ever being able to show back her face at Court or the Almack's would dissipate were the Cowper's name lose the little levity it held over good part of the Ton's families, they could not afford their last name to be in everybody's tongues.
The above being said, she did not wish to bear witness to the forced polite conversation that was surely to take place between her mother, the dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, and perhaps one or two of her sons, which was why she feigned a polite excuse, "I find myself in need of some air mother, surely, the Bridgerton's would have no qualms in allowing me to take a stroll in their gardens".
"I rather you stayed Cressida", Emily Cowper responded short, but upon looking at the distress her daughter exhibited condescended with a nod of her head, "I shall take care of the matter at hand, off you go, do not take long".
"Thank you", and with that, she took a deep breath whilst she pushed through a side door that seemed to be the shortest way to the gardens.
Anthony 10:45 a.m.
The Viscount Bridgerton had an eventful night, he was to marry Kathany Sharma. The loneliness he had felt over the last years, after his father's death, even when surrounded by the noise and laughter of his younger siblings, the mistakes he had made, they were all to be set to rest in the past, it was time to turn the books page, if Kate had taught him anything it was to humble himself, to listen, to accept. The family dynamics would surely adjust once the New Viscountess settled at the Bridgerton's family home in Grosvenor Square.
"Family, good news, I am to marry Kathany Sharma", Anthony proclaimed light hearted as soon as he entered the dining room where his mother, Colin, and both his youngest brother and sister were already sat to break their fast.
For the first time in years, Anthony felt light, as if a weight he had not been aware of carrying was lifting off from his shoulders, there was no way for him to know, how his arms were soon to feel the heavy weight that came with despair.
"Those are wonderful news dear, I knew love would prevail, have you chosen a date yet?", Violet questioned promptly.
Before Anthony could answer his mother, Colin had stood up to embrace him, offering a heartly, "Congratulations brother".
"Finally", Hyacinth had exclaimed, drawing Anthony's eyes to her, before she quickly amended her words, "congratulations brother".
"Yes, congratulations brother", Gregory had followed upon his sister's example, beaming smile in place.
Mrs. Wilson had walked into the room then, a note upon a silver tray delivered to his mother, the elderly woman kept her voice low as she spoke close to her mother's ear.
"Something wrong mother?", Anthony had questioned upon seeing the frown that crossed his mother's face.
"It seems that Emily Cowper, pardon, the Countess Emily Cowper is on our parlour with her daughter, she wishes for an audience with us both", Violet's tone spoke of confusion, and some distaste, she would not deny, that she never had found common ground with the woman as to call her a friend.
"Did the Countess state why is it that she wishes to have a word with both you and me mother? At this hour?" Anthony inquired, naturally, not still showing any real concern.
"No, she did not say, but Mrs. Wilson told me she would not move from the parlour until we are to receive her", the dowager Viscountess went on to exclaim with a hint of exasperation.
Rightly guessing the reasoning behind his mother's frown, her eldest son went on to reply, "It is a travesty that she will use rank to force us to receive her at this hour, by all means, neither Benedict or Eloise seem to have risen to break their fast".
"Better to see what is it that she wants, it may have to do with your brother's involvement in uncovering the newest Lord Fetherington's nasty fraud, it was all over the latest lady Wisthledown’s sheet", Violet exclaimed.
"Which brother?" Inquired Anthony and just as the later replied, "Colin", it was just then that he noticed that the third Bridgerton brother had conveniently fled the room, whereabouts unknown.
"Of course, he would be involved", Anthony exclaimed with exasperation, taking note in his mind of how he had chided Colin for withdrawing money from their accounts to invest it, in what he had beforehand identified to be at best a poor investment that would not render them any real interest over the capital.
"Mrs. Wilson, if you would please ask 'the Countess' to join us here, in the dining room, I do not believe that at this hour she has had a chance to break her fast, the best we can do is offer her some refreshment", exclaimed Violet resigned.
Cressida and Emily Cowper 11:15 a.m .
"Mother, Mother", Cressida irrupted into the room, breath discomposed, light sweat upon her forehead, there was no denying to those present that she had made her way into the interiors home by running, as unbecoming and unconventional the act may have been for a lady of her station.
"Cressida, what is the meaning of this scandal? Mind your manners, we are guests dear", Emily Cowper chastised her daughter, she had just about been led into the house's breakfast room and offered a seat at the table. When at other times the reproach would have made her daughter straighten her pose and regain her composure, this time it failed to do so, she would question her later, at present other matters needed to be addressed.
Cressida Cowper was distressed to the point that even the dowager Viscountess could not hide her concern, and Anthony's eyes, same as those of the children were drawn to her, it was not an act the one she was putting up for them, she was not participating of 'the art of the swoon' as she had been accused of doing a season's past to gain Prussia’s prince's favour; her voice was to discomposed for the words that she spoke to be anything other than true, "By the swings, I could not raise her, I fear she may be death, Miss Bridgerton".
"Who? Cressida take a deep breath", this time Emily Cowper's voice held concern over her daughter and what she may in fact had seen.
"By the swings", Violet stood up, gasping at the words of the one who at one point had been friends with her eldest daughter.
For his part, Anthony needed not for Miss Cowper to repeat herself; moving past the adults, after dropping her plate, Hyacinth fled the room with direction to the garden, guessing only about a minute before him who it was Miss Cowper was referring to, with Francesca still away at Bath, he pushed brusquely a chair that was in his way aside, before tailing after his little sister, there was only one Miss Bridgerton that Miss Cowper could be referring to at present, Eloise.
Eloise 11:25 a.m.
Dressed still in the mint silk embroidered ball gown she had taken to the gardens after fleeing from her neighbour’s ball. The skies had been dark, heavy summer clouds impeding her from viewing the night stars; she had welcomed the heavy rain that had fallen upon her frame as she sat on the swings, those where she had gone so many times in the past to escape from the confinement, and uncomfortable sensation brought about by the oppressing rules that governed the interactions of those who inhabited within the walls of her family's home.
She had not meant to stay outside for so long, but could not bring herself to make her way into the house and upstairs to her room; not when she would be forced to mask her feelings for propriety's sake, to pacify her mother, to pretend and embrace the bizarre rituals of the Ton, even though they made her feel as nothing but an impostor.
Outside, Eloise could breath, there was no need to hide her tears because they mixed with the rain, she welcomed the cold, even though it prickled her skin. The hours had passed and she had remained still, her thoughts were all over the place, she did not want to leave the one place where she needed not to pretend.
The rope and wood had withstood the passing of time, life could fade, but most men got the opportunity to leave a tangible sign of their existence behind; why was it that she could not do the same? She cared not for embroidery or painting, her talents lay in the written word, but now she knew, words had the power not only to create but to destroy.
It was underneath the tree, that Hyacinth and Anthony found her, almost half an hour before noon, lips tinted blue, seemingly unconscious, miraculously held upright by the rope intertwined in her arm, that of the swings set up by their father.
Violet 12:01 p.m.
Distress, a helplessness that she had not felt since Edmund's death took hold of Violet when she watched her eldest son carrying within his arms the body of her third daughter, usually so full of life and outspoken, "Eloise", she cried her name. "Anthony, my daughter", tears welled up in her eyes.
"She is breathing mother, but she is very cold, her clothes are still wet, she must have stayed outside all throughout the night", Hyacinth spoke fast, trying to be of some comfort to her mother, as she moved up the stairs in the direction of Eloise's room, where presumably Anthony seemed to be carrying her sister.
"She needs a doctor", the voices sounded far away to Violet, "call for a doctor", she could not move, surely, Eloise, her Eloise had yet to rise.
"Cressida, the carriage is outside, send word to your father that he is needed at the Bridgerton's. Go, run", Emily Cowper's raised voice brought Violet back from the place she had escaped to in her mind, where she stood behind her daughter, adjusting a new frock over her frame whilst she ignored her attempts to make her care, and kept her eyes firmly grounded on a book she held in her hands.
A strong hand took hold of her upper arm, making her move up the stairs, she heard lady Cowper by her side call a maid to warm up tea water, they needed to get Eloise out of her damp clothes, no, they could not warm her up too fast, it was better to do it slowly, otherwise she was sure to die.
Peter Clavering-Cowper 6:00 p.m.
The 5th Earl of Cowper was surprised when the carriage in which his wife and daughter departed came back empty save for a note written in haste by his daughter's hand, begging him to come to the Bridgerton's home and bring with him his medical case, the one he kept in prime condition despite no longer practicing medicine.
He had gone of course, Emily had set up that morning along Cressida to the Bridgerton's only for the sake of the crusade she insisted on pursuing, that was, getting his sister to be embraced back by good society, never mind that she in fact despised Caroline, he loved his sister, but had to accept that Emily was not all that wrong when calling her names.
The situation was grave, he had not imagined to what extent when first walking through the doors to face his daughter, who although distressed led him to a room upstairs. He had worked for hours on end, supplying one remedy to the next, instructing the maids, his wife despairing and taking over at some point the tasks of one of them, when trying to make Miss Eloise down a warm drink. The best he achieved was her opening her eyes for an instant only for her to fall sleep again, she regained some colouring, but her body temperature refused to rise, even when her little sister had taken to lie in bed with her in an effort to supply her with her own body warmth. He would need to attempt waking her again sometime soon.
"We have seen this before", Emily, his wife pulled him aside, as he went back to his case to search for a vial. "I instructed Cressida to send for the Duchess, the Duke of Hasting's and his wife were set to attend Kitty Langham's dinner party tonight ".
"She is young, she may yet pull through, but aye, you did well, her family should be aware". The outcome did not seem positive at the moment, that he meant to say, but the words refused to leave his mouth as they often did. Emily gave him a sad smile, she understood, her husband may have lacked in the social graces that society praised, he was quiet and withdrawn, not born as a natural politician, but he was smarter than he led on.
Daphne Hastings 7:30 p.m.
The Duke and Duchess of Hasting's resided for the most part of the year out of town, even when the season called for Simon to take up his duties at the House of Lords, more often than not, they would take up the first excuse they could to go back to Cliveden; but as the legislative proceedings were coming to a close, the young matrimony had found itself on its way back to London, they could not ignore the duties that came with their rank, but they would delay them as much as they could. Hence, them not arriving to London until the afternoon had set, barely leaving them with enough time to ready for dinner at General Langham's home.
The purple silk dress the Duchess of Hasting's had chosen for the occasion would not get a chance to be commented on by the society leading ladies, both her and Simon had arrived early to the Langham's at the General's bidding, only to be received by Kitty's concerned drawn face, alongside a note, and the promise to keep her sister in her prayers.
Eloise could not be more different from herself, but she would of died for her, and so it was that after offering a forced apology, one that her host did not accept but proclaimed unnecessary, Daphne boarded the Hasting's carriage with direction of the Bridgerton home. Her mother, the Cowper's, Colin, Anthony, and the children were all there. Cressida out of all people had taken to pulling Gregory and Hyacinth out of the room when she arrived, she had taken her little sister's place, embracing Eloise on her bed, without being told to do so.
"She has not regained consciousness for the past two hours, and even then, she opened her eyes only for a few minutes before falling sleep again, we need to try and wake her again, soon", Daphne heard the words of the 5th Earl of Cowper as he addressed both her eldest brother, and Simon.
"Eloise, Eloise, you listen to me, I demand that you open your eyes, you hear me. I will tell you the title of the music piece I composed last season, the one that annoyed you, if only you'll wake up", Daphne's voice was strong if pleading as she spoke, bringing a hand to caress her sister's cheek.
"Daphne, Daphne, you were perfect", Eloise spoke, her voice sounded far away, her eyes hadn't opened.
"Eloise, now is not the time to be speaking such, you need to regain your strength sister", the Duchess of Hasting's voice broke, the tears she had been repressing falling freely.
"No, no, let me speak, you truly were perfect, her majesty's diamond, it was Penelope", Eloise made a move to grasp her sisters hand, she opened her eyes if only for a second, hoping her sister would see the truth of her words.
"Penelope?" Daphne questioned.
"She fooled us all", Eloise's voice once again was starting to lower.
"Eloise you are not making any sense", Daphne needed to understand what was it that her sister was trying to tell her.
"Tell Theo I am sorry, please", a tear fell from Eloise's closed eyes, one which Daphne gently took care to wipe with her fingers.
"Eloise, who is Theo?", please keep talking, keep talking, do not fall sleep, the Duchess of Hasting's begged her sister in her mind.
"Tell him I love him", Eloise replied, the faintest smile marking her lips.
"Eloise, open your eyes, please", Daphne tried again.
"She fooled me, she fooled us all", this time as she spoke, it was distress which all those present within the room could see, the emotion that overtook the third Bridgerton's daughter face.
"Who?" Daphne inquired, again.
"Penelope, I unmasked her", she would have snorted, but she felt weak, she wanted to open her eyes and tell them, but she could not string her words together.
"I do not understand", Daphne shook her head, as she sat upright on the bed, turning to those in the room, "she is not making any sense, do any of you know what is it she is talking about?"
"Please don't let him be hurt sister", the press of Eloise's hand upon her own brought back Daphne's attention to her sister.
"Who?" Daphne inquired, she would do whatever Eloise wanted, there was no question in her mind.
"Theo, Theo, please promise me Daph, promise you'll protect him", even when dulled, Eloise's voice held a tone of despair.
"I promise, I promise Eloise, we promise", Daphne replied, "sleep sister, hold your strength, I'll have him brought to you, even if it is the last thing I do", she straightened up and fixed her gaze upon both Anthony and Colin. Colin whom looked decidedly uncomfortable, when her gaze came to rest upon his face.
"I told her it was dangerous, Penelope said the same to her, we both tried to dissuade her, but she would not relent, she became acquainted with a print shop boy some months ago, a Theo Sharpe who writes of women's and workers' rights", Colin explained, "in all likelihood she is speaking of the radical Lady Wisthledown accused her of frequenting".
"Theo", Eloise spoke the name softly, already in the land of dreams.
"Simon, Anthony, you need to find him, this Theo, have him come, do what you must, bring him to her", Daphne would go on to plead, not that it was necessary, "please", she set her eyes upon her husband, who taking note of what it was his wife needed form him walked out the room to instruct the household staff to be gathered, one of them must know, where was it that they could find Mr. Theo Sharpe.
Colin 7:45 p.m.
"This is ridiculous, she will improve and then you can make whatever enquiries you want", surely, his sister could not be serious about bringing a printers apprentice, likely a radical into their home, it was not like Eloise was dying, but then he saw the faces of those present in the room. No! He refused to believe it.
"I will question the footman, Colin, you go, scourge through all the damn city's clubs, I do not care if you have to make it all the way to Kent, you need to find Benedict and bring him home, he will never forgive himself if he is not", Anthony's voice broke.
"What if?" What if I am also away? Colin wanted to ask, reality setting into his bones, unwelcome, fast.
"You want to play the hero that rescues women, well do something for the ones that belong to your family first", Anthony's words hit Colin hard, he could but nod before leaving the room, he would be readying his horse himself.
It was only when his mount started into a faint gallop, that the gravity of the situation set in, his hand brusquely made to brush away the tears he had not realised had fallen, he never been Eloise's favourite brother, that he knew; but even when he could not bring himself to search for Mr. Sharpe, he would do his best by her, and find the one brother, the one she loved above them all, he would bring Benedict home.
Anthony and Mr Harris 8:35 p.m.
He was not well acquainted with Bloomsbury, never having the need to walk through its streets, relying on servants to purchase whatever goods and services that he or the family may need from this part of town in his place.
John the footman that commanded the carriage Eloise usually employed, had brought around the carriage through the London streets as fast as he could, slowing the horses upon reaching Chancery Lane Square, he saw before him the marquee that sat above the window of a decently sized shop given its location. He heard more than saw Simon dismounting from a horse he had borrowed from the family's stable, alongside another mount, "just in case he knows how to ride, it'll be faster", the Duke had explained when they had set on their path to find Mr. Sharpe.
The knock at the late hour on the side door of the shop was unexpected given the hour, but the candle light that shone through the windows indicated that the shop was not empty, surely, someone needed to reply.
Before Anthony could raise his fist to knock on the door again, the footman at his side raised his voice, "Theo, tis I, John, I need to speak to you in a matter of urgency".
Simon closed his eyes, nodding, willing Anthony to comply and remain quiet, trying to convey to him, that this was the best route they could take at present, but it was not a young man who opened the door for them, but a man up in years, if not too old, his features hardened by labour made him appear so.
"Come on in lad, we are about to finish, we are running late today, because we dallied earlier, came back just about six, Theo won't take long to finish the last prints", Mr Harris spoke kindly at first, but then his eyes settled on the two gentlemen that stood beside the footman.
"What's your business here? If you mean to question the boy, it was I who took business from that ginger chit, and I've come to regret it, she took her business elsewhere, we are no longer associated with her", Mr. Harris hardened his voice.
"You do not understand, I need for Mr. Sharpe to come with us to Mayfair", Anthony spoke, in the back he saw a young man clean his hands over the working vest he wore, walking forward to meet them.
"It was I who took the commission to print that gossip rag, the boy merely did as instructed. He is but a mere apprentice and only did as he was bid. We may not belong to le bone Ton, but we do have rights your Lordship", Mr Harris spoke with distaste.
"You do not understand, I come here not as a Viscount, or a titled man who's name was tarnished, I do not come to demand satisfaction, nor to exhort my position over you, but I need your apprentice to come along with me, please", Anthony's voice took a note of desperation, he saw that Theo, that is Mr. Sharpe had meant to speak and inquire what his business was about, only not to get a chance to do so, as his employer spoke for him again.
"You may believe that the boy has no one to back him up, but I assure you, his uncle placed him under my care only so he would learn the trade, he may not be titled but probably has more fancy coaches than yourself", Mr. Harris was forceful in his reply, he had been unjust when allowing the Queen's guards to question the boy.
Theo shook his head in disbelief at Mr. Harris, he had not lied when stating that his uncle was a man of considerable wealth, but he was bluffing when it came to the support he may offer him before the law, he'd seen him only twice over the span of the last five years.
"Once more, I beg you to listen to me, I am not here to demand anything from you, I do not come here as a Viscount, but as a brother. I've come here, because my sister Eloise may not make it through the night, and she is calling for you", this time Anthony overlooked Mr. Harris and directed his words straight to the young man.
"Eloise", Theo could not contain himself from speaking her name, no, it could not be, "Miss Eloise?" he questioned again.
"She is barely conscious", the other gentleman that accompanied the Viscount spoke then, taking over from Anthony who he could see was beginning to feel too overcome by the gravity of the situation to continue to explain, "the few words she has uttered in her spare bouts of consciousness have been to call for you to forgive her, for my wife to promise she will protect you, she is not making much sense, keeps on repeating how 'Penelope fooled us all', that she unmasked her", Simon finished his speech, hoping his words would be enough to convince the young man to come with them.
Theo 8:45 p.m .
"Lady Whistledown, it was her friend, Lady Whistledown is Penelope, her friend was the one to hurt Eloise", Theo exclaimed, throwing off his vest in the working table at his side and walking to the door, he would not be coming back to Chancery lane's printshop for many nights to come.