There was a move to charge me with stealing a slave, but debate over whether such a charge might even be brought. My lawyer argued for the Somersett case to apply; Somersett being the case which reasoned that slavery had never been legalised in England, and that had stopped a Negro being sent back to slavery in Jamaica.

Somersett was no easy ticket, though, even if it happened to work for that charge. It slowed the wheels of justice, but they still had me for taking the two horses and other items. Two horses, my lawyer informed me, would still be two counts of grand larceny, for no jury could be found to value a horse at less than a shilling, unless the horse was already on the cart, to be turned into fertiliser and glue.

A summons arrived, telling me I was to present myself at the next Mayo assizes. Fearing I would be detained there, my grandmother hid me in Malahide Castle, and I saw not a wink of daylight until she had the offer of apprenticeship from Doctor Haydn in her hand. As the sun set that same day, she sent me off on a horse for the Cove of Cork.

The Marquess of Sligo died in January, and the Earl of Altamont has succeeded him. As a man set to make a strong point against slavery, we are hopeful that he will make do with only restitution for the items sold, provide Noah with an honest ticket and see that the action against me is brought to a close. It is not his action though; it is the Crown’s now, and the Crown will not be quickly persuaded.

Every day of February and March, I awaited news that my torment was to end, but every day it failed to come. The letter that frees me might by now have been sent, or it might not, and I have no way of knowing. I have forsaken the urge to hope, as news does not pass easily through a war.

I acted that a man might be free, as all men should be. I had no intention of keeping the horses. I was a party to the theft of a clock, a tea caddy and some spoons, but I was ever of a mind to remedy that, as soon as Noah was over the horizon. That is the best case I have to offer.

We will soon run short of food again, and I cannot ask the Emperor a second time. We have kept to ourselves the modest supplies he has given us, not breathing a word of them outside the house. We are, Frau Meyer, Fraulein Kremnitzer and I, downcast about this deception, this selfishness, but persisting in it nonetheless. It would need the Saviour himself to turn the food into sustenance for all of Kleine Steingasse, let alone the alleyways around us and the rest of Windmuehle. Thieves are breaking into houses known to have food, and taking it to sell as well as to eat.