‘Well, it seems your young lady saviour has come to the rescue again.’ He took out his pocket watch. ‘To be brief, I believe what she told me about the circumstances that have brought you here, but you can recognise the difficulty. We have two upstanding gentlemen of the town accusing you, a seeming vagabond with nobody to stand for you.’

‘Harriet stands for me.’ Saying the words made it real. Silas shook his head, wonderingly. ‘Harriet stands for me.’

‘She does, she does. But a woman’s word won’t be taken against that of her uncle or the Grandmaster of the Masons. I have spoken to Mr Boothby…’

‘Why not her uncle?’

‘He is indisposed. The least said about that, for your sake, the better.’ He raised his voice to pre-empt Silas’s protests. ‘Walter Simpson is dying because of exposure to flood water, not of the injuries he sustained in your presence. Unfortunately, that dreadful calamity continues to claim lives. Calm yourself, Silas. I’ve spoken to the parties concerned and I now intend to lay out the terms of your release, which all are agreed upon. You should consider yourself a very lucky young man.’

Mrs Gunson nodded her agreement.

Silas felt at once grateful and guilty. Harriet had not visited him and although he suspected it was because she had been forbidden, he had nevertheless felt abandoned by her. Now he was learning that she had fought his corner. The judge was still talking, but Silas wasn’t listening. He was overwhelmed by the urge to find Harriet, to kiss her again and again and again and damn the consequences.

‘And so you come full circle, Silas, to find gainful employment in helping to rebuild the very thing that nearly killed you.’

He had no idea what the man was talking about, but he looked very satisfied with himself.

‘Now, Silas. There has also to be a reckoning in these things, a punishment that must be endured.’

‘A punishment? But I’ve done nowt wrong!’

‘Please, just listen, Silas,’ said Mrs Gunson.

‘Mr Boothby is not satisfied. He wanted to see you hanged or locked up for life where you’d spend your days picking oakum. I’m afraid it pains me greatly, but there has to be a public atonement, a warning to those who would prevent the inhabitants of the town from feeling safe in their own homes. Additionally, it will be viewed as a further crime—’

‘I’ve not committed a crime at all.’

‘—if you attempt to re-establish your friendship with Harriet Wragg. It would not be appropriate. The young lady is betrothed to be wed. These are the terms. I strongly recommend them to you.’

Silas interlaced his fingers behind his skull and lowered his head to his knees. He stared at a crack in the flagstone, followed it to the thin thread between the next flagstone and the next. A beetle lumbered out from under the bed and wandered towards the toe of the judge’s polished shoe. Silas stared at his own dusty boots. Betrothed. It was impossible. And who to? That Boothby fella? Harriet never would marry that man. The judge was lying, a ruse to discourage him from seeing Harriet. He would see her again. Let them try to stop him.