“Four broken ribs on the left side,” said Clark once the examination was done and they were in the parlor. “Internal injuries as well. It’s possible the sharp edges of the breaks have caused further wounds. Terrible bruises. What hit the poor man? And you also … that’s the mark of a bullet crease on your cheek, is it not? And you too are not wanting for bruises.”

“They are constables on official business,” Varney explained before Matthew could speak. “They have captured the murderer of three men and are transporting him to Bristol for trial. Obviously it was a violent encounter.”

“Oh?” The doctor’s white eyebrows went up. “Well, then … it seems your man nearly has committed a fourth murder. And I have to say …” His voice quietened. “There may yet be another charge.”

That statement sent a shrill of alarm through Matthew. “What? No! Julian needs rest, that’s all.”

“I can bind the ribs tightly so the pain is lessened, but it will not magically disappear and that process in itself will be painful … to say the least. I have some laudanum in my bag that will soothe him and help him sleep, though I am not particularly a great advocate of that drug. Still, it does work. As for the internals, that is a different story altogether. It may be that excreting the corrupted blood will help, but then again … to speed the process I may need to apply cupping and the lancet.”

“What?” Again Matthew felt a shiver. “Oh my God! I know what bleeding does to a patient, doctor, and I’m not at all sure it’s for the positive.”

“Young man, I have no other suggestions. His fever is running high and his heartbeat is labored. Ordinarily broken ribs will heal themselves in a matter of perhaps two months, but here we have further complications. Your associate could very well die in that bed, and it could be quickly if infection takes hold.”

“No bleeding,” said Matthew. He put a hand to his forehead, recalling the death of his mentor and great friend Magistrate Isaac Woodward some years ago. The—to Matthew’s mind—hideous process of cupping and cutting had in his opinion worsened the magistrate’s illness and likely killed him. “Please,” Matthew said to the doctor. “No bleeding. Not yet, at least.”

“Very well, I’ll wait on that. But by your opinion, which is not mine. Understood?”

“Yes.”