‘IT WAS ON THE twenty-ninth of June, a Tuesday. Three weeks ago, though it seems a year. Anne Askew and those three men had been condemned to death for heresy at the Guildhall the day before. Everyone was talking of it. We expected she would lie in Newgate prison with the others till she was taken to be burned. That afternoon I was on duty in the Tower, checking on the prisoners in the dungeons and giving food to those allowed it. Afterwards I went to report on how they fared to Master Howitson – you met him yesterday.’

‘Yes, I remember.’

‘While I was with him at the desk I heard footsteps outside, several people coming down. The outer door opened and Master Ardengast, the senior guard, entered, accompanied by a couple of guards holding a young woman. She wore a blue dress of good quality, but to my astonishment she had a dirty sack over her head, so her face could not be seen. She was breathing hard, poor creature, very frightened. It was dreadful to see a woman treated so. Another couple of men followed, carrying a large trunk. Then Master Ardengast told Howitson and me this woman was to be lodged down here, and none of the other prisoners were to know of her presence. He said as we were on duty we must perform a double shift, for the fact she was here was to be known to as few as possible.’

Myldmore’s voice fell to little more than a whisper. ‘You would think one would protest at such a thing, but you get used to the worst in that place. And I am a weak, sinful creature. I only answered, “Yes, sir.” The woman was led away, to a cell within, a place called the “special cell”, better appointed than the others, for prisoners of gentle birth. But it is near the room where the rack and the other instruments of torture are kept.’ He looked up at me. ‘I have seen them.’

So have I, I thought, but did not say.

‘After that, all the men left, leaving Howitson and me staring at each other. I began to ask who the woman was, but Howitson said we should not talk about it. So I went about my duties. Then, a couple of hours later, Master Ardengast returned. With him were the Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir Anthony Knevet, and two other men, in fine silk gowns with gold chains of office and jewelled caps. One I did not know, he was thin with a ruddy face and a little jutting red beard. The other I recognized, for I have seen him on business in the Tower before. The King’s councillor, Sir Richard Rich.’