“Lopez.”

“Lopez! That damned, filthy Jew. Lopez!”

Now Sir Grenville shook his head. His voice seemed to be a moan of pain. “That bastard priest described the seal! For God’s sake! The seal!”

“You think Lopez will come?”

Sir Grenville nodded grimly. “He’ll come, Ebenezer. He’ll come!”

“What can he do? He can’t take her from the Tower? You have two seals.”

Sir Grenville leaned back, his gaze sour on the younger man. He remembered his astrologer, Barnegat, saying an enemy would come across the seas and Sir Grenville was inflicted with a sharp stab of pain in his belly. Aretine! That damned Aretine! He feared Kit Aretine. But Aretine was dead, his grave halfway across the world in the American wilderness. Sir Grenville shook his head. “There’s nothing he can do, Ebenezer, but he might try. I don’t want complications. Do you understand? I want that damned girl dead and then we will have nothing to fear.” He rubbed his white, round face with both hands. “We must bring the trial forward. Look after that! See Higbed. Tell him we’ll pay whatever’s necessary. But bring the trial forward!”

“Yes.”

“And double the guard on this house! Triple it!” The bulging eyes still had anger in them.

“You’re certain you want me to do that?”

“I am certain. God! I am certain!” Sir Grenville remembered the handsome face of his enemy, he remembered the reckless daring that had eventually put Kit Aretine into the Tower. His voice was gloomy. “Lopez got a man out of the Tower before.”

“Not this time.” Ebenezer smiled.

“Get that trial forward, Ebenezer! Get it forward!”

Ebenezer shrugged. He raised his eyebrows as he drew his hand across his neck. Sir Grenville shook his head, though he was tempted simply to have the girl killed.

“No. Aretine’s dead, Ebenezer, but the bastard had friends. If the girl dies, there’ll be a vengeance. But they can’t take vengeance on a whole country. No. Let the law kill her, and then no one can accuse us.” Sir Grenville looked at the sentence in Mercurius: “Ebenezer Slythe putte familie love aside, preferring the Love of Almightie God, and in Sorrow and Pain broughte His Sister from Lazen.” Sir Grenville began to laugh, his fat shoulders heaving up and down, and the laugh grew louder. It was a strange contrast to his previous anger. He held a shaking finger out to his protégé whose face, pale and cold, was not amused. “You’d better get yourself a bodyguard, Ebenezer! A bodyguard. You’re rich enough!” He put his frog-face back and bellowed with laughter. “And watch your back, Ebenezer! Always watch your back!”

On the day after the tribunal they fetched Campion again, dragging her from the horrid cell and forcing her up winding stairs and down long passageways. She thought that she must face another ordeal, and she whimpered at the horrors she imagined, but to her surprise the guards took her into a pleasant, well-lit building and pushed her into a sunlit, warm room. The floor was carpeted. The windows, though barred, were large and velvet-curtained. Two women waited for her. They were kind, in their matter-of-fact way, and they stripped her, bathed her, washed her hair, and then put her in a great, warmed bed. One of them brought a tray of food, hot food, and sat by her and helped her eat. “We’re feeding you up, dear.”