The steward reddened.

'He referred perhaps to her feelings for you?' I asked.

The old woman raised a hand. 'It's all right, David. Sabine developed a girlish fancy for David. He did not encourage her: he is loyal, he has served my son and me for ten years. He would do anything for us. Tell them what you saw next, David. From the window.'

'Sabine grabbed at Ralph. He twisted away from her, fell backwards and then he was gone. Down the well.'

Goodwife Wentworth sighed. 'Sabine says she did not mean to throw him in, she only lashed out in anger. I think at law that would be manslaughter, eh lawyer? Not murder?'

'It would be for the jury to decide on the facts.'

'Either way Sabine might hang, for all her status. We could try for a king's pardon, but that would bankrupt us. Of course, if Elizabeth had not been there Sabine and Avice could have said Ralph merely slipped, but Elizabeth saw everything. And she has no love for us.' She spread her hands and smiled. 'You see, that was our problem.'

'So she had to be silenced. By being accused.' My voice came out as a croak and speaking hurt my dry throat. I wondered whether I was sickening for something.

'When I saw Ralph go down the well,' Needler went on, 'I ran downstairs to the garden. Sabine and Avice were screaming, howling. I looked down the well. I could just make out Ralph's body.'

'Poor boy,' the old woman whispered.

'Elizabeth just sat there under the tree, gawping. Then, not knowing I had been looking from the window, Sabine pointed at Elizabeth and said, "She's killed Ralph. She put him in the well! We saw her!" Elizabeth just sat there, like a stone, saying nothing. Then Avice joined in, pointing at Elizabeth, accusing her.'

Goodwife Wentworth nodded. 'Then I came down, I had heard the screaming. I found Sabine and Avice howling that Elizabeth had killed Ralph. Elizabeth would not answer when I spoke to her. I thought at first that was what had really happened, I ordered Edwin fetched and he had the constable take Elizabeth away. It was only afterwards that David told me the truth. I questioned the girls and they admitted all. They knew about the beggar boy; they have been very frightened, Master Shardlake, but they know how to control themselves as young ladies should. They will make fine gentlewomen one day.'

'They'll make devilish monsters, like their brother,' Barak said.

The old woman ignored him. 'We waited a day, two days, to see if Elizabeth would tell her story, but she kept her silence. Joseph came and told us she was refusing to plead. So we decided, if Elizabeth was prepared to go to her death, let her.' She spoke calmly, as though of a business arrangement.

I coughed drily. 'Well, madam, you have told us all. What do you expect to happen now?'

She said nothing, only smiled. I was aware my heart was pounding very fast. I could not understand why. I heard voices from the hall, then the closing of the front door.

'Shit,' Barak said. 'My eyes. I'm seeing double.'

I looked at him. The pupils of his staring eyes were enlarged, enormous. I remembered Sabine's eyes on the day of my first visit and that nightshade was extremely poisonous. I had seen its effects before, at Scarnsea monastery.

'They've poisoned us,' I breathed.

'It's working quickly,' the old woman said quietly. Needler crossed quickly to the door and locked it. He stood against it and looked at us, a grim set to his fleshy jaw.

'The servants have all gone?' Goodwife Wentworth asked.

'I told them there's nothing more to do this morning, to go out and enjoy the air while it's fresh after the storm.' He turned to me. 'You thought you were unseen that night you went down the well, but my mistress heard someone in the orchard. She told me to wait at a window and see what happened. I saw the pair of you sneak in, saw baldy there go down the well.'

The old woman laughed, a brutal, ugly cackle. 'The blind have wondrous hearing, Master Shardlake, After that we feared the constable would come for us. When nothing happened we realized Elizabeth must still be refusing to plead.'

Barak tried to get to his feet but fell back, his eyes staring wildly. 'I can't see,' he said. His head began to shake. Whatever this stuff was, he had drunk more of it than me.

I tried to say something, but my voice would not come. I remembered standing by the nightshade bush at Scarnsea, Guy telling me about the poison. The only way to counteract it, if taken quickly enough, was an emetic.

Needler returned to his place behind the beldame. 'We knew you would come here,' she continued. 'It was all you could do.' She smiled evilly as I took deep breaths, trying to ease my pounding heart. 'The well, is empty now, by the way, the carcasses in the river. It's ready for you. Then we will deal with Joseph.' Her voice was low, a whisper, she was listening for us to fall on the floor. 'An old countrywoman knows many poisonous plants and we have a large herb garden. They are weakening, David. Kill them now.'

The steward swallowed hard. His face grim, he drew a dagger and came round the chair slowly, deliberately.

And then I remembered the mustard, what Guy had said about its emetic properties the day I first told him about the Wentworth case. Knowing it was my last chance, I hauled myself to my feet. I was shaking from head to foot. Barak too managed with a herculean effort to rise unsteadily and fumble for his sword. He seemed unable to focus. Needler, looking between us, appeared suddenly uncertain. I reached out for the mustard pot and, before Needler's astonished eyes, grasped it and thrust a big spoonful into my mouth. I swallowed, my throat on fire.

The old woman called out, a note of fear in her voice. 'What's happened, David? What have they done?'

Barak made an uncertain lunge with his sword. He cut only air, but Needler retreated quickly behind the chair.

I felt my stomach turn, then leaned over and vomited its contents onto the floor with a horrible retching sound. 'Jack!' I cried. 'Here, take this!'

He grabbed the pot and swallowed what was left. He gasped and leaned back against his chair, sword still raised at Needler. I put a hand on the back of my chair, my head spinning.

'Stay up, sir!' Barak shouted. 'We must stay up!'

I took long, deep breaths. It was horribly frightening, knowing if we allowed ourselves to pass out now it could be the end of us. But my heartbeat was steadying a little. I pulled out my dagger. The old woman stood too, trembling, hands stretched out before her. 'David!' she called in a shrill howl. 'David! What is happening?'

Needler's nerve broke. He stepped away from his mistress and ran to the door. Barak started to follow, but staggered. The old woman turned to the sound of Needler's footsteps, her hands waving helplessly. 'David! David! Where are you? What's happening?'

Needler unlocked the door and threw it open. He ran down the steps and out of the house just as Barak leaned forward and vomited as spectactularly as I had. He sank to his knees, gasping.

The old woman turned towards the noise, panicky now. 'Where are you?' she shouted. 'David! David!' She stumbled, lost her balance and fell with a cry. Her head struck the wall and she collapsed to the floor with a moan.

I staggered to the open door of the parlour, down the stairs and through the front door which Needler had left open. I leaned on it for support and called 'Help!' in a cracked voice, making heads turn along the crowded street. 'Murder! Call the constable! Help!' Then my legs seemed to disappear beneath me and I fell into blackness.