Leeman looked at me hard, surprised by my reaction – I think he had intended to provoke me into defending the King and his court. He went on: ‘I hate it. The great palace, every stone built with the sweat of poor men, the stench and poverty and misery just beyond its walls. My vicar in Tetbury was a man who had come to see the emptiness of the Mass, and he put me in touch with friends in London, men of faith.’ Leeman paused, his eyes seeming to look inward for a moment. ‘It is as well that he did, for royal service offers many temptations – debauchery of the flesh, vanity in dress and manner, fine clothes and jewels – oh, they are tempting, as the Queen herself says in her book.’

‘You have read it?’

‘Yes, when it was in Master Greening’s possession.’

The thought of him reading the stolen manuscript made me suddenly angry, but I forced myself to keep my expression open and amiable as he continued. ‘Through friends outside I progressed further towards God, and the right understanding of our wicked society.’ He looked me in the eye again. ‘One discussion group led me to others as my faith deepened, and last year I was introduced to Master Greening.’

I could see how it had happened: a sensitive young man, with a conscience and radical inclinations, tempted by the magnificence of the court but aware of the evil within. His beliefs had deepened as he moved into more radical circles, eventually coming into Greening’s orbit. I ventured, ‘So, you were accepted into Greening’s little group, unlike Master Myldmore. Who also had access to secrets,’ I added meaningfully.

Leeman laughed. ‘I guessed you had made that connection. Master Vandersteyn had connections, too; not here, but in the courts of France and Flanders, with men who would tell him things. It was his idea to build a similar group here, of true believers who were in a position to find out secrets that might harm both papists and princes, help stir the population to rebel against both.’

‘I see.’ So Vandersteyn, now heading out into the North Sea, had been the key.

‘He met Master Greening on a business trip to London two years ago, and so our little group was born. McKendrick had already come to see the truth. Then the papists came sniffing at his heels and he had to flee Scotland. He had held a junior position at the Scotch court of the child Mary and knew all the schemings and bitings among the rival lords there.’

‘And Master Curdy? He does not seem to have been a man of connections.’

‘No. But he was a man of faith, with an instinct for truly sniffing out who might be trusted and who might not.’

‘So,’ Barak said flatly. ‘A little cell of Anabaptist spies, rooting for secrets to disclose.’