‘I know that. I found Agnes crying one day.’ He frowned at that, but I pressed him. ‘What has that to do with what you did?’

He took a deep breath. ‘Rogue though I know my son John is, I feared he might die for lack of food and care in that gaol if I did not send him money, and I could only get him out of it by paying off his debtors.’ His eyes were suddenly bright with anguish and fear.

‘Go on.’

‘It was in early April, not very long after Agnes and I came to work for you. John had had a fever of the lungs in that vile place last winter, and nearly died. We were at our wits’ end.’

‘You could have come to me.’

‘It is for me to care for Agnes and John – me!’ Martin’s voice rose unexpectedly, on a note of angry pride. ‘I would not go running to you, my master, soft though I saw you were with Josephine and the boy.’ There was a note of contempt in his voice now. There, I thought, that was why he disliked me. He had an iron view of the place and responsibilities of servants and masters. It had led him to betray me rather than ask for help.

He pulled himself together, lowering his voice again. ‘I had arranged to have what money I could scrape together delivered to John in prison by a merchant of Leicester who travels between there and London, and who knew my story.’ He took a long breath. ‘One day, as I was leaving his London office, a man accosted me. A gentleman, a fair-haired young fellow wearing expensive clothes.’

I stared at him. ‘Was he missing half an ear by chance?’

Martin looked startled. ‘You know him?’

‘Unfortunately I do. What name did he give?’

‘Crabtree.’

‘That is not his real name. What did he say?’

‘That he was an acquaintance of the merchant, had heard of my son’s trouble and might be in a position to help. I was puzzled. I know there are many tricksters in the city, but he was well-dressed and well-spoken, a gentleman. He took me to a tavern. Then he said he represented someone who would pay well for information about you.’

‘Go on.’ Martin closed his eyes, and I shouted, ‘Tell me!’

‘He wanted me to report your movements generally, but especially if you had any contact with the Queen’s household. Or any radical reformers.’ He bowed his head.

I persisted. ‘And this was in April?’

‘Yes. I remember the day well,’ he added bitterly. For the first time he looked ashamed.