Rafe was angry; Cade was angry and humiliated; Mieka was angry, humiliated, and hurt; Jeska, who felt none of these things and wanted only to get home to his pregnant wife, decided that the wisest course was to keep his mouth shut. The atmosphere in the wagon, those last long miles to Gallantrybanks, became so intolerable that their second-to-last night on the road, Jeska went to the nearest posting inn and hired a horse and rode the rest of the way home by himself. Though Cade considered doing the same thing, he’d spent almost all the coin allotted to him for the circuit. The few private shows they’d had time to do had paid well, but the money had gone into the local branches of their bank to be credited to their Gallybanks accounts. For the first time he regretted not having played the weird old mansion outside New Halt. Payment for that had always come in the form of individual purses fairly bursting with coin. So he gritted it out those last two days, and when the wagon finally arrived at Wistly Hall, he slung a satchel of his personal belongings over his shoulder and went looking at once for a hire-hack.
