It had been market day at Smithfield, and the cattle-pens were being taken away, boys with brooms clearing cow dung from the open space. Farmers and traders stood in the doorways of the taverns, enjoying the evening breeze. Ragged children milled around; they always gathered at the market to try and earn a penny here or there. The awful scene I had witnessed last month had taken place right here. One might have thought some echo would remain, a glimpse of flame in the air, the ghost of an agonized scream. But there was, of course, nothing.

I had never been to the hospital, which gave directly onto the open ground of Smithfield. I tied Genesis at the rail outside, paying one of the barefoot urchins a penny to watch him, and went inside. The large old building was in a dilapidated state, paint and plaster flaking – it was seven years now since the dissolution of the monastic hospital. I asked a fellow who had lost half a leg and was practising walking on crutches where Dr Malton might be. He directed me to the main ward, a large chamber with perhaps twenty beds in two long rows, all occupied by patients. I walked to the far end, where Guy in his physician’s robe was attending to a patient. Beside him was his assistant, plump old Francis Sybrant.

They looked up as I approached. The patient in the bed was a girl in her teens, who whimpered as Guy wound a bandage round her calf, her leg held up carefully by Francis. Two wooden splints had already been bound to the leg.

‘Thank you for coming, Matthew,’ Guy said quietly. ‘I will be with you in a moment.’ I watched as he completed winding the bandage. Francis lowered the girl’s leg slowly down onto the bed, and Guy said to her quietly, ‘There, you must not move it now.’

‘It pains me, sir.’

‘I know, Susan, but for the bone to knit you must keep it still. I will call again tomorrow.’

‘Thank you, sir. May I have my rosary, to pass the time – ?’ She broke off, looking at me anxiously.

‘Master Francis will give it to you,’ Guy replied. He turned to his assistant. ‘Give her some more of the drink I prescribed later. It will ease her pains.’

‘I will, Dr Malton.’

Guy stepped away. ‘I have put the man I wrote of in a private room.’

I followed him down the ward. ‘What happened to the girl?’

‘She assists at the cattle market for a few pennies. A frightened cow pressed her against the side of an enclosure. It broke her leg.’

‘Will it mend?’