A Column of Fire by Ken Follett

puzzled; then it occurred to him that she was the same size and build as the boy.
    The truth began to dawn on the audience, and there were murmurs of admiration and surprise. But Rollo also heard low but clear noises of protest and, looking around, he saw that they came from the corner where Philbert Cobley stood with his family. Catholics were relaxed about plays, provided there was a religious message, but some of the ultra-Protestants disapproved. A boy dressed as a woman was just the kind of thing to make them righteously indignant, especially when the female character was acting sexy. They were all stony-faced – with one exception, Rollo noticed: Philbert’s bright young clerk, Donal Gloster, who was laughing as heartily as anyone. Rollo and all the young people in town knew that Donal was in love with Philbert’s fair daughter, Ruth. Rollo guessed that Donal was Protestant only to win Ruth.
    On stage, Infidelity took Mary in his arms and gave her a long, lascivious kiss. This caused uproarious laughter, hoots and catcalls, especially from the young men, who had by now figured out that Mary was a boy.
    But Philbert Cobley did not see the joke. He was a beefy man, short but wide, with thinning hair and a straggly beard. Now he was red in the face, waving his fist and shouting something that could not be heard. At first no one paid him any attention, but when at last the actors broke the kiss and the laughter died down, people turned to look at the source of the shouting.
    Rollo saw Earl Swithin suddenly notice the kerfuffle and look angry. Here comes trouble, Rollo thought.
    Philbert stopped shouting, said something to the people around him, and moved towards the door. His family fell in behind him. Donal went along too, but Rollo saw that he looked distinctly disappointed.
    Swithin got up from his chair and walked towards them. ‘You stay where you are!’ he roared. ‘I gave no one permission to leave.’
    The actors paused and turned to watch what was going on in the audience, a reversal of roles that Rollo found ironic.
    Philbert stopped, turned, and shouted back at Swithin: ‘We will not stay in this palace of Sodom!’ Then he continued marching towards the door.
    ‘You preening Protestant!’ Swithin yelled, and he ran at Philbert.
    Swithin’s son, Bart, stepped into his father’s way, holding up a placatory hand, and yelled: ‘Let them go, Father, they’re not worth it.’
    Swithin swept him aside with a powerful shove and fell on Philbert. ‘I’ll kill you, by the cross!’ He grabbed him by the throat and began to strangle him. Philbert dropped to his knees and Swithin bent over him, tightening his grip despite his maimed left hand.
    Everybody began to shout at once. Several men and women pulled at Swithin’s sleeves, trying to get him away from Philbert, but they were constrained by fear of hurting an earl, even one bent on murder. Rollo stayed back, not caring whether Philbert lived or died.
    Ned Willard was the first to act decisively. He hooked his right arm around Swithin’s neck, getting the crook of his elbow under the earl’s chin, and heaved up and back. Swithin could not help but step away and release his hold on Philbert’s neck.
    Ned had always been like this, Rollo recalled. Even when he was a cheeky little boy at school he had been a fierce fighter, ready to defy older boys, and Rollo had been obliged to teach him a lesson or two with a bundle of birch twigs. Then Ned had matured and grown those big hands and feet; and, even though he was still shorter than average, bigger boys had learned to respect his fists.
    Now Ned released Swithin and smartly stepped away, becoming one of the crowd again. Roaring with fury, Swithin spun around, looking for his assailant, but could not tell who it had been. He might find out, eventually, Rollo guessed, but by then he would be sober.
    Philbert got to his feet, rubbing his neck, and staggered to the door unobserved by Swithin.
    Bart grabbed his