‘Aye,’ Gabriel said, standing so quickly that his chair scraped along the floor. ‘Aye, I can help you out there for certain, there’s a bad blood flowing towards the Finches from that family up the cursed hill.’

‘Just – only one incident,’ Daniel said, before Gabriel had even reached the end of the last word. He laughed, trying to show how trifling an occurrence it had been. He was met with silence. ‘No more than a squabble, surely?’

Gabriel snorted. ‘Happen it was more a attempt at murder by that Devil-boy.’

Daniel kept his eye on the magistrate. Surely a gleam of elation in his eye at the word Devil. He stepped to the fire, glanced into the pot that hung above it, stirring the contents and lifting the spoon to his nose. He grimaced. Daniel did not dare look to see Bett’s reaction.

‘You distort it, Gabriel,’ he said. Gabriel looked at him in surprise, and anger.

‘Yes, and you’re not so slow to use your own fists when provoked,’ Bett said.

Again Daniel felt the most extraordinary urge to kiss her.

Father snapped his fingers and pointed. ‘You overstep, lass. Be gone to your own hearth and return tomorrow with a sweeter tongue.’

For a moment Daniel thought she might argue, but she merely walked to fetch her neckerchief and left. The magistrate stepped aside as she passed, as though she carried some contamination.

‘I apologise,’ Father said. ‘She has been with us a long time, sometimes I think she supposes to be more daughter than housemaid.’

‘You have been too lax with her, perhaps,’ the magistrate said. ‘This has indeed been of use. There is a turning of the air, a wickedness riding in on the breeze, that you would do well to prepare for, I fear.’

Again that word, though he betrayed nothing of the sort.

He turned to the door, and then back, as though with an afterthought. ‘Oh, I hear you have a new dairymaid not from these parts.’

Daniel’s heart gave a sharp kick and he could not be sure he did not cry out aloud.

‘I should like to meet her.’

‘She has retired to her room,’ Father said.

‘Nevertheless.’

Daniel began to rise, praying that Sarah had not left to visit her family, but Father said, ‘Gabriel, bring Sarah to join us.’

Gabriel was gone before Daniel could speak.

‘Ah,’ the magistrate said as Sarah appeared. He took her arm and led her to the light spilled by the fire, fingered the edge of her coif, tipped her chin to inspect her face, lifted her petticoat just a little and peered at the tips of her shoes. Her trembling showed in her clothes but she kept her expression obstinately calm.

Gabriel stepped forward, then checked himself. Father glanced at Daniel, gave a frown and slight shrug.

‘I see,’ the magistrate said, turning to Father. ‘You are satisfied with this one?’