“They cannot see me!” I began to shout but Dr. Whiting begged me to stop for fear of discovery. Instead, he took up the candle and gave it to me. I held it close to my face and heard him light two more and hold them aloft, so that our window was the brightest in the building. He passed me my handkerchief with which to wipe my eyes but instead I waved it about.

The wind was brisk and the candles burned down quickly. Dr. Whiting brought more but after they too sputtered and died, I dared not request more for fear of getting him into trouble.

After that I stood in darkness, knowing that we were as close as possible even if they could not see me. Dr. Whiting left me alone at the window, only moving to put the blanket around my shoulders and then his coat on top of it, for I was shaking violently.

The seven o’clock bells made me jump. On the wharf I could make out the children being steered away by Eustace. The three youngest dragged their feet and ran back. I heard them crying, “Mama! Mama!” I did not flinch or turn away. Although I had no hope of being seen, I held out my arms to them. They were pulled away by their siblings and within minutes a torch appeared, carried by a guard. I looked at Dr. Whiting, frightened.

“Have they been arrested?”

“No, no, they are safe. The alderman told me he would keep the guards until after seven. He intercepted my note to your brother.”

“Was he angry with you?”

“I think it was the first time he was pleased with me in all the years we have known each other.”

I was clutching his arm very tightly. He led me to the truckle and I sank onto it. I was speaking, but my words came out as a curious monotone, as if talking in my sleep, and I could not bring life to them.

“Mary did not cough, even in this cold and wind. She is still well.… They are not thin, someone is feeding them.… Eustace is kind.… Barbara will help him.… She can be mother to them and … John will give whatever money he has.… Henry, who could not love him? He will win hearts despite his mother’s infamy.”

He let me prate, sensing perhaps that not to do so might cause my heart to burst. After I know not how long, I took a long, shuddering breath. “That was an act of true kindness and I thank you,” I said.

He took from his jerkin a small packet. “This arrived some time ago, at least two weeks, I think. The alderman gave it to me this afternoon.”

I could not untie the ribbon with my trembling fingers so the confessor cut it with his knife. The linen fell open to reveal a nest of fine pearls.