‘Here on business. I am a Parliament man representing the borough of Yeovil.’

John stepped forward. ‘My wife will show you the rarities,’ he said. ‘But first can you tell me what news there is?’

The man looked cautious. ‘I can’t say whether it is good or bad,’ he said. ‘I am on my way home and Parliament is dissolved, I know that much.’

John and Hester exchanged a quick look. ‘Parliament dissolved?’

The man nodded. ‘The king himself came marching in to arrest five of our members. You would not have thought that he was allowed to come into Parliament with his own soldiers like that. Whether he was going to arrest our members for treason or cut them down where they stood, I don’t know which!’

‘My God!’ John exclaimed, aghast. ‘He drew a sword in the House of Commons?’

‘What happened?’ Hester demanded.

‘He came in very civil though he had his guards all about him, and he asked for a seat and sat in the Speaker’s chair. But they were gone – the men he wanted. They slipped out the back half an hour before he came in the front. We were warned, of course. And so he looked about for them, and made a comment, and then went away again.’

John was struggling to hide his irritation with the slowness of the man’s speech. ‘But what did he come for, if he left it too late to arrest them?’

The man shrugged. ‘I think myself it was some grand gesture, but he bodged it.’

Hester looked quickly at John. He made an impatient exclamation. ‘Are you saying he marched his guard into the House to arrest five members and failed?’

The man nodded. ‘He looked powerfully put out,’ he observed.

‘I should think he was. What will he do?’

‘As to that … I couldn’t say.’

‘But then what will Parliament do?’

The man slowly shook his head. Hester, seeing her husband on the edge of an outburst and the man still thinking his answer through, had to bite her lip to keep silent herself.

‘As to that … I couldn’t say either.’

John took a swift step to the door and then turned back. ‘So what is happening in the City? Is everything quiet?’

The country squire shook his head at the mystifying speed of change. ‘Well, the Lord Mayor’s trained bands are to be called out to keep the peace, the king’s men have all gone into hiding, the City is boarded up and ready for a riot or … something worse.’

‘What could be worse?’ Hester asked. ‘What could be worse than a riot in the City?’

‘War, I think,’ he said slowly. ‘A war would be worse than a riot.’

‘Between who?’ John asked tightly. ‘A war between who? What are you saying?’