“We don’t know that there’ll be a Second Coming! Of course he knows! Why else would he be here?” Cony shut his bulging eyes as if in pain. “God damn, God damn, God damn! She had it all along! She had it! She tricked me! God damn!” He snarled, then seemed to freeze.

When he moved again, eyes opening slowly, he was quite calm. Morse was used to this metamorphosis. The anger was over, now would come the calm, efficient plan that would attempt to retrieve the damage. “Which of our people would recognize the girl?”

Morse thought. “Myself, sir. The boat crew.”

Sir Grenville snapped his fingers. “The boat crew. Who’s the best man?”

“Taylor, Sir Grenville.”

“Send Taylor to Amsterdam. Two of our guards to go with him. If the girl is seen going to the Jew’s house, seize her. One hundred pounds apiece if they’re successful.”

The secretary raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Sir Grenville frowned for a second. “She’s got to be found, John, she’s got to be. Who’s at Werlatton?”

“Davis, sir.”

Sir Grenville had sent one of his guards to Werlatton, to make sure that the chastened Samuel Scammell pulled the house apart in his efforts to find the seal. “Send a message to Davis; can he read?”

“No, Sir Grenville.”

“Damn. Send a messenger. Twenty pounds if anyone spots the girl.”

“At Werlatton, sir?” Morse was surprised.

“Don’t be a bigger fool than God made you. She only knows Werlatton, where the hell else would she have made friends to rescue her?” Sir Grenville was thinking swiftly. “Lopez may send men to her, rather than expect her to make the journey. I want her found. I’ll pay twenty pounds for a sighting, understand? Get Scammell’s servants out looking, but find her! Find her!”

It was not much, Sir Grenville knew, but it was all he could do at this time. He had always known this moment would come, the gathering of the seals, and he did not intend to lose the battle that was imminent.

There were four seals: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Sir Grenville’s enemies were seeking to assemble any three of the seals. It did not matter which three. Three seals controlled the Covenant and victory would go to the man who gathered them first.

He thought about it as he walked back to the Commons. He had thought these thoughts for years, since the Covenant had first been made and the permutations surrounding the seals were old in his mind.

Lopez would never succeed in laying his hands on the Seal of St. Mark. That was in Cony’s keeping, and Sir Grenville guarded it well. St. Mark was safe.

On the other hand Sir Grenville knew that he would never gain possession of the Seal of St. Luke. That was in Lopez’s keeping and the Jew guarded it as carefully as Sir Grenville guarded St. Mark.

That left two seals. St. Matthew, he was now sure, was in Dorcas Slythe’s hands. If it reached Lopez, then the game was almost certainly lost, the battle won by the enemy. The thought hurt.