‘After seeing it, telling is little,’ she answered starkly, and took a deep breath. ‘My husband died last year. Elias, thankfully, had his job with Master Greening. But he spent too much of his spare time there, talking with Master Greening and his friends. Some of the things he said they discussed – ’ her eyes flickered between us – ‘they were dangerous.’

Cecil prompted, ‘About faith and the Bible being the only keys to Grace, you told me, and questioning whether the social order was ordained by God.’

She nodded. ‘I was angry with Elias for speaking of such things in front of his sisters. His father would have beaten him. Yet – ’ her voice softened – ‘my son was young, angry over the injustice in the world, full of newfound ideas. He was a good boy, he did not drink or roister, and his wages kept all of us.’ She ran her hands through her hair. ‘I do not know what will happen to us now. The girls – ’

‘I shall see what can be done,’ Cecil said gently.

‘What happened last night?’ I asked after a moment.

She looked at me. ‘It was around ten, the girls were in bed, thank God, and I was about to go up myself. I was worried, for Elias had not come home the night before. He had been surly, distracted, since poor Master Greening’s murder. Then I heard his voice outside, shouting, “Help! Mother!”’ She shook her head desperately. ‘Almost the last words he ever said, and they were too late. I think he had been hanging around the house, checking to see whether it was safe to come home.’ She swallowed. ‘I threw open the door at once. Two men were running from the alleyway. One carried a cudgel. They ran past me, past that cart outside, and disappeared. I looked into the alley. There was my son. His head – ’ she squeezed her eyes shut. ‘There was blood, blood everywhere. Yet he was still just alive; he grasped my hand. He said, “Tell them, tell my friends, I was killed for Anne Askew.” And then,’ she added starkly, ‘he died. I don’t know how I found the strength but I dragged him indoors and upstairs and laid him in his room. I should have gone to the constable, I know, but after what he said – that name – ’ Her voice fell to a whisper. ‘Anne Askew. The one who was burned on Friday.’ She looked at us. ‘Elias wanted to go to the burning, shout cries of encouragement to the poor souls there. I think his friends persuaded him he would only end in the fire himself.’ Her eyes grew angry. ‘He would not be the first young apprentice to be burned these last few years.’

‘No,’ Cecil said. ‘But they, and Elias, are safe now from the evils of this world, in Jesus’ arms.’ The words could have sounded trite, but he spoke them with quiet sincerity.