‘Oui, vraiment … merci beaucoup,’ said Lady Catherine in a tremulous voice, still pale and shaken from the attack. Then she added, in accented English, ‘We are truly grateful that you didn’t pass on by … I think most travellers would save their own skins first, rather than risk themselves for strangers.’

Akiko gave Rose a reproachful look but said nothing.

‘A person has two hands,’ Yori explained. ‘One for helping himself, the other for helping others.’

‘Wise words, young monk,’ said Lord Percival, regarding Yori’s saffron robes and shakujō with curiosity. ‘I don’t know where you’re from, but I thank God that you came our way.’

‘Well, I don’t thank no one!’ growled the upright-man, making a wild grab for Yori’s legs.

Akiko pressed the arrow tip harder into the back of the man’s skull. ‘Stay where you are!’ she warned.

Lord Percival peered down his arched nose at the gang leader lying in the dirt. ‘I believe this fellow here is the notorious highwayman Guy Rakesby.’

‘What do you want us to do with him, my lord?’ asked Jack.

‘If it was my decision, I’d hang him on the spot!’ The nobleman glanced up, as if searching for a suitable branch. ‘But we must respect the law of the land. So tie him up, along with his gang here. I’ll have the local Justice of the Peace send a band of constables to arrest them. Then they can be tried in court.’ He glared at Guy. ‘And after what you did to my wife, I can assure you the punishment will not be lenient.’

Holding each other by the arm, Lord Percival led his wife away to reclaim their clothes. Jack bound Guy and his dazed doxy to the oak tree, while Akiko gathered her arrows, carefully prising out the one in the young robber’s arm before tying him up with his fellow gang members. Meanwhile, Yori tended to the lord’s manservants, reviving them with water and incense.

‘Which way are you going?’ asked Lord Percival, dressed once more in his plush red velvet robes. He took the reins and mounted his horse.

‘Stratford-upon-Avon,’ replied Jack as he helped Lady Catherine into her saddle. ‘I’m hoping to find my sister there.’

Lord Percival raised an eyebrow. ‘She’s missing?’

Jack nodded and related their story: returning to England and discovering his home was now a plague house; their fortunate encounter with Rose and learning that his sister might still be alive; their visit to Bedlam and Mrs Winters’ wild ramblings about red wolves; the silver locket that led them to Rowland Bodley and to their belief that they might find Jess in Stratford.

‘That is all quite strange,’ remarked Lord Percival.

‘Are there such wolves in England?’ queried Lady Catherine, with a nervous glance round the woods.