‘Where is our world?’ I asked.

He smiled at me. ‘Here,’ he said, pointing to the golden egg at the very centre of all the others. He pointed to the next ring with the slowly circling ball. ‘This the moon.’ He pointed to the next. ‘This the sun.’ He pointed to the next few. ‘These are the planets, and beyond them, these are the stars, and this—’ he gestured to a ring that was unlike all the others, a ring made of silver, which had moved at his first touch and made all the others move in time. ‘This is the primum mobile. It is God’s touch on the world symbolised by this ring that started the movement of everything, that made the world begin. This is the Word. This is the manifestation of “Let there be light”.’

‘Light,’ I repeated softly.

He nodded. ‘ “Let there be light”. If I knew what made this move, I would know the secret of all the movement of the heavens,’ he said. ‘In this model I can play the part of God. But in the real heavens, what is the force that makes the planets swing around, that makes the sun circle the earth?’

He was waiting for me to answer, knowing that I could not, since nobody knew the answer. I shook my head, dizzied by the movement of the golden balls on their golden rings.

He put a hand on it to steady it and I watched it slow and stop. ‘My friend, Gerard Mercator, made this for me when we were both students together. He will be a great map-maker one day, I know it. And I—’ He broke off. ‘I shall follow my path,’ he said. ‘Wherever it leads me. I have to be clear in my head and free from ambition and live in a country which is clear and free. I have to walk a clear path.’

He paused for a moment and then, as if he suddenly remembered me, ‘And you? What did you come here for?’ he asked in quite a different tone of voice. ‘Why did you call for my father?’

‘I didn’t want him. I was looking for you. I only wanted to ask him where you were,’ I said. ‘They told me at the court that you had gone home to your father. I was seeking you. I have a message.’

He was suddenly alight with eagerness. ‘A message? From who?’

‘From Lord Robert.’

His face fell. ‘For a moment I thought an angel might have come to you with a message for me. What does Lord Robert want?’

‘He wants to know what will come to pass. He gave me two tasks. One, to tell Lady Elizabeth to seek you out and ask you to be her tutor, and the other to tell you to meet with some men.’

‘What men?’

‘Sir William Pickering, Tom Wyatt, and James Croft,’ I recited. ‘And he said to tell you this: that they are engaged in an alchemical experiment to make gold from base metal and to refine silver back to ash and you should help them with this. Edward Courtenay can make a chemical wedding. And I am to go back to him and tell him what will come to pass.’