10

Henry Machyn stirred at the sound of the stable door opening. For a moment he thought he heard the stableboy, coming to see to the horses. Suddenly he was fully awake, his body rigid. Four or five men were down in the yard. He could hear voices. Through the opening where the ladder was, he saw a light. One of them had a lantern.

His heart was beating with fear and disbelief. How could anyone know he was here? But they were looking for him.

Clarenceux must have betrayed me.

The realization brought shock to his heart and tears to his eyes. He had trusted the man. He had given him his book. The book. Everything he still hoped for and cherished now lay in ruins. Twenty-six years of keeping a secret, wasted.

How could Clarenceux have done this?

He heard feet on the rungs of the ladder. A second later, he saw a man’s hat and the shadow of a head. The man lifted a lantern. A gold brilliance touched the harness hanging there, the piles of hay, several old apple barrels, and the stacked hemp sacks full of oats.

The man saw Machyn and smiled, revealing yellow teeth. “Sergeant Crackenthorpe,” he called down. “He’s here!”