The Devil and His Boy by Anthony Horowitz Read Free Book Online

would be able to understand it and thought it would be rather dull.
    But when he followed Mistress Quickly into the courtyard, the first thing he heard was roars of laughter from the crowd who now lined the balconies leading round the inside of the inn and who were packed neck-and-neck on the ground below. The players – about a dozen of them – had set themselves up at the far end, using one wall of the inn as the backdrop to a makeshift stage. Torches and candles blazed everywhere turning night into day. And as Tom watched, they acted out their story, turning the Red Lion into another world.
    It was a mad story.
    The play was about two sets of identical twins, two masters and two servants, who accidentally turned up in the same city. Because they looked exactly the same, the masters kept on confusing the twins and the twins kept on mistaking the masters until everyone was chasing everyone else all around the stage. Tom soon found himself swept up in a way he had never known before. It was as if all his own problems were forgotten. For two hours, William Hawkins, the Slopes and Gamaliel Ratsey simply didn’t exist. It was a wonderful feeling, to be so lost in something that nothing else mattered.
    If Tom had kept his eyes on the stage like everyone else, he might not have seen what happened next. But he enjoyed watching the audience too – he had never seen so many people having such a good time – and it was while his eyes were on them that he saw the thief at work.
    The thief was a boy, a couple of years older than himself. He was wearing a thick red cloak with a tall hat on his head and brown trousers ballooning out at the knees. The boy had a rather round face, long fair hair and thick lips.
    The boy was standing right behind a wealthy-looking merchant and, as Tom watched, he reached forward, his hand disappearing underneath the man’s cloak. At the same time, his other hand drew out a short sword and cut through the man’s purse. Tom gasped. It had taken less than five seconds and now the purse was in the boy’s pocket and he was already moving on to the next person in the crowd.
    Mistress Quickly was standing next to Tom. “What is it?” she demanded.
    “There! He took that man’s purse!” Tom lifted his hand and pointed at the boy. At that very moment, the boy looked up at Tom. And to Tom’s astonishment, his face broke into a broad smile.
    But Mistress Quickly wasn’t amused. “A foist!” she yelled. “There’s a pock-picket in the house!”
    At once the play was forgotten as the audience exploded. They knew there was a thief among them. The only trouble was, they didn’t know who he was.
    “There!” Mistress Quickly shouted again.
    The thief took one last glance at Tom. Slowly he shook his head as if to reproach Tom for spoiling his fun. Then he pointed at a fat, bald man two rows behind him. “That’s him!” the thief cried out.
    “What…?” the bald man began, then yelled as someone punched him full on the nose. The bald man reeled back, blood flying, then crashed into two more members of the audience. This sparked off a second fight and moments later the entire audience was shouting and swearing, exchanging blows and sprawling over the courtyard. On the stage, the actors tried to continue the scene, realized it was hopeless and stopped to watch. Now it was the actors who had become the audience and the audience who provided the entertainment. Just in front of the stage, two men began a sword fight. A very old lady lashed out with a surprisingly strong fist. A merchant had the shirt ripped off his shoulders while two more grappled with each other’s beards.
    Tom looked down at the battlefield, searching for the boy who had started it all. A moment later he saw him. The boy had reached the archway and was slipping out into the street. The boy looked back and saw Tom. He took out his stolen purse and raised it in a defiant gesture, then drew a quick finger across his nose. His meaning was