‘By God’s body sacred!’ Cecil shouted out. It was the first outbreak of temper I had seen from him. ‘We’ve lost them all!’ He approached the Dutchman and, to my surprise, addressed him in Flemish. A brief exchange followed before Cecil turned away. ‘He knows nothing,’ he said fiercely. ‘They all belonged to some heretic congregation in Antwerp, came over knowing their friend Vandersteyn had an important book to bring back. This one says there are two more crewmen who will be back from the tavern soon. And we can’t have a diplomatic incident over this.’ He spoke desperately, looking at the four bodies and at Gower, who had fallen to his knees and was gasping as he clutched the wound in his stomach, blood trickling down between his fingers.

The two who had run after McKendrick returned empty-handed. ‘He got away from us, those lanes are pitch-black. The devil knows where he is now.’

‘No!’ We all turned to the Dutchman, who spoke in heavily accented English. ‘God knows where he is. He is God’s servant, unlike you shavelings of the Pope.’ Stice and his men looked at him threateningly; they would have given him a beating, but Cecil called them off sharply. ‘Let him go,’ he said. He looked at the sailor. ‘Run, you, while you can!’

The Dutchman disappeared into the lanes. ‘Search Leeman and Curdy’s bodies,’ Cecil said. ‘Quick, there’s little time.’

‘What for?’ Stice asked. He had taken out a handkerchief and was dabbing at his face.

Cecil nodded at the direction in which the Dutchman had fled. ‘In case he’s lying and one of them has the book on his person.’

Barak and Nicholas went over and searched Leeman’s body, while one of Stice’s men searched Curdy’s, Cecil and I standing over him in case a manuscript should be found. But there was nothing on either man, save more purses full of coins for the men’s new life on the Continent. I sighed. Gower had collapsed to the ground now, coughing; Stice went over and knelt beside him. ‘We’ll get you seen to,’ he said in a surprisingly gentle tone.

I turned to the body of Cecil’s man. ‘Had he family?’ I asked.

Cecil shook his head. ‘I don’t know. The poor fellow was in Lord Parr’s household.’ He turned to the other man who had come with him. ‘Did you know him?’

‘Only slightly, sir. But he had a wife.’

‘What do we do with the bodies?’ Nicholas asked quietly.