She was. “How’s Toby?”

He smiled. “You have nothing to worry about. Nothing! Do you understand?”

A smile spread on her face, a smile of such delight and love that Mr. Lapthorne was touched. He was a youngish man, in his thirties, with a fine face and a deep, expressive voice. He laughed at her happiness. “You’re crying! Let me give you a handkerchief.”

He laughed too at the evidence of the presentment. “You a witch, my dear? It’s nonsense! Nonsense! Now that Goodwife could be, oh yes! A secret, black and midnight hag if ever there was!” He was full of plans. He would summon witnesses from the London watch who had fought the fire at Scammell’s yard and he would take statements from them that none had seen the devil that night. He scoffed at the thought of a cat killing an armed man, or of Campion murdering Samuel Scammell. Campion’s spirits began to rise. On his second visit he made her recite the Lord’s Prayer and he applauded her when she had finished. “Wonderful! Wonderful! You’ll do it in court?”

“If no one sticks a knife in my back.”

“They tried that, did they? I wondered. Dear, oh dear!” Mr. Lapthorne shook his head. “If only I had been there. Still! I’m here now!” He pulled a leather bag on to the table and took from it a quill, an inkpot, and a great sheaf of papers. He unclipped the lid of the ink and pushed it, with the pen, toward her. “You’ve got to work now, Dorcas.”

“Call me Campion.” She smiled shyly.

“Campion! What a lovely name. What a lovely name. Your middle name?”

She nodded, not wishing to explain.

“Campion! Splendid. You must sign papers, Campion. So many papers! I sometimes think we lawyers will choke ourselves with paper. Let’s start here.”

He had written out her own story, telling the truth, and she skimmed through it, admiring the style, and signed her name. Then followed a batch of receipts, acknowledging favors received in the Tower. He smiled when she queried those. “We want your jailers to be happy, don’t we? It makes a good impression in court if they smile at you, help you. The jury knows you can’t be such a bad girl after all. Don’t worry. We’ll pay a little money here and there as well.”

Then he put a pile of letters on the table. They were requests for witnesses to come forward. Twenty-four alone were to members of the watch, another forty-five were for soldiers who had served at the siege of Lazen Castle. Francis Lapthorne said he had taken their names from the Parliamentary muster rolls, and he rubbed his hands with glee. “We’ll make them regret this trial, my dear! Oh yes! We’ll make them look the fools they are!” He laughed at her suggestion that the Roundhead soldiers would be afraid to give testimony. “The law is the law, my dear. You’ve seen a harsh side of it, but you’ll find it can be a tender preserver of the truth too. They’ll come if they are ordered. Now, you read the letters and then you sign them.”