“Now for the next stage,” Grove said stoutly as he rolled up his sleeve. “I think five ounces would do, don’t you think?”

I disagreed, although I refrained from telling him that I was far from convinced that bleeding ever did anyone much good, as I was afraid of losing his confidence. So instead I suggested the harmony of his body would be better restored by a light vomit after eating—especially as he looked like a man who could easily miss a meal or two with no ill effects.

The treatment concluded, he asked me to share a glass of wine with him, which invitation I declined, having already drunk far too much recently. Instead, I explained my visit to him, thinking that if he did not bring up the incident in the coffee house, I would not do so either. Initially, I had been critical of his behavior; now I knew the girl better, I was more understanding.

“It is about a young man whom I encountered yesterday,” I said. “A Mr. Prestcott.”

Dr. Grove frowned at the very mention of Mr. Prestcott and asked how I had met him, considering that he was locked in the castle.

“It was through my dear friend Dr. Lower,” I said, “who had a… message to deliver to him.”

“Wants his corpse, does he?” Grove asked. “I swear when I become sick I feel inclined to go back to my family in Northampton, in case Lower turns up at my bedside with an acquisitive glint in his eye. What did Prestcott say?”

I told him that Prestcott had refused outright to countenance the idea, and Grove nodded. “Good for him. Sound boy, although it was easy to see that he’d come to a bad end. Very wayward.”

“At the moment,” I replied gravely, “he seems very contrite and in need of spiritual comfort. He wants you to visit him, to offer him the solace of religion.”

Grove looked as pleased as he was surprised. “The ability of the noose to make even the worst of sinners embrace God’s mercy should never be underestimated,” he said with satisfaction. “I will go this evening.”

I liked him for that. He was brusque and certainly of very definite opinions, yet he was also kindly, I sensed, and loved nothing better than for people to disagree with him. Lower told me later that, whatever his failings, Grove never took offense at opinions honestly held, even though he was determined to combat them as much as possible. It meant that, while he was difficult to like, some came to love him.

“He was most anxious to speak to you as soon as possible,” I said. “But I would recommend you wait for a day or so. The wind is from the north, and it is known that is bad for an ailment of the eyes.”

“We shall see,” he said. “But I must go soon. I was loath to do so unless he called for me himself, and I am gratified he now has. My thanks, sir.”

“Do you know,” I asked as I peered into his eye once more, “what the story of his crime was? From the few details I have heard it seems quite peculiar.”

Grove nodded. “Very peculiar,” he agreed. “But I am afraid he was fated to act thus, because of his family. His father was wayward as well. Made an unfortunate match.”

“He disliked his wife?” I asked.

Grove frowned. “Worse than that. He married for love. A charming woman, so I am told, but against the wishes of both families, who never forgave him. It was typical of the man, I’m afraid.”

I shook my head here. Coming from a merchant family myself, I was well aware of the importance of not allowing sentiment to cloud one’s judgment in marital affairs. As my father had once remarked, if God had meant us to marry for love, why had He created mistresses? Not that he indulged overmuch in this direction himself, for he and my mother were devoted to each other.

“He enlisted on the side of the king when the war broke out, fought with valor and lost everything. But he still continued faithful and plotted against the Commonwealth. Alas, he loved plotting more than he loved his monarch, for he betrayed his king to Cromwell, and almost with disastrous effects. A more evil deed has not been seen since Judas Is-cariot sold Our Lord.”

He nodded sagely at his tale. For my part, I found it all very interesting, but still did not understand how Prestcott came to be in prison.

“That is very simple,” Grove said. “He is of a violent and unstable disposition; perhaps it is a case of the sins of the fathers being handed down. He became an unruly, ungovernable child and took to bad ways with a vengeance once he was free of family control. He assaulted and nearly murdered the guardian who has looked after him with kindness since his father’s disgrace, and there is also a complaint from an uncle that he ransacked that man’s money chest on a recent visit. It happens—we hanged an undergraduate for highway robbery last year, Prestcott this year and, I’m afraid, these will not be the last. ‘The land is full of bloody crimes, and the city is full of violence.’ “ He paused for me to recognize the quotation, but I shrugged helplessly.

“Ezekiel, 7:23,” he said reprovingly. “It is a consequence of the turmoil we have been through. Now, sir. I feel unable to insult you by offering you money for your kindness, but perhaps a meal in college would be an adequate recompense? We do fine food, better wine and I can promise excellent company.”

I smiled wanly, and said I would be delighted.

“Splendid,” he said. “I am so glad. Five o’clock?”

This was agreed, and I made my farewells to him with as many thanks as I could muster.

The way he waved it aside suggested that he believed I was singularly honored by the invitation. “Tell me, before you leave,” he said as I opened the door. “How is the girl’s mother?”

I stopped in surprise at the way he brought the matter up. “She is not well,” I replied. “In fact, I believe she will die.”

He nodded grimly in a fashion I could not decipher. “I see,” he said. “God’s will be done.”

And then I was dismissed. I went back to inform Mrs. Bulstrode I would not be dining, then fulfilled my last obligation and took the gallon of wine to Prestcott in his jail cell.

8

Dinner at new college came as something of a shock. As my hosts were all gentlemen of education, and many of them in holy orders, I imagined that I would be passing a pleasant time in agreeable surroundings. Instead, the meal was served in a vast and drafty hall, through which the wind swept as though we were at sea in mid-gale; Grove was well wrapped up for the occasion and went into considerable detail to inform me of the layers of undergarments he was wont to don before venturing forth. Had he forewarned me, I would have done likewise. Even so, I would have been cold. While the English are used to icy conditions, I am used to the soft air and balmy weather of the Mediterranean. Nonetheless, even the lowliest tavern did not possess a bitterness like that hall, which ate through your clothes and flesh and made your very bones ache with the pain of it.

Even that would have been endurable had food, wine or company been a compensation. These colleges have the monastic custom of eating in common, with the exception of the wealthier members who pay to have food sent up to their chambers. On a raised platform sit the senior Fellows, and in the rest of the hall are the others. As the food is scarcely fit for animals, I suppose it is not surprising that they behave like beasts. They eat off wooden platters, and in the middle of the tables are vast wooden bowls into which they toss the bones, when they do not throw them at one another. I ended up with food splattered over me from Fellows talking with their mouths full, spraying each other with bits of gristle and half-masticated bread.

The wine was scarcely palatable, so I could not even drink myself into oblivion. Instead, I had to listen to the conversation, which was not at all about matters of scholarly interest. I began to realize that, having initially fallen in with Mr. Boyle and Dr. Lower, I had gained an unduly favorable impression, both of Oxford and the English. Far from being concerned about the latest advances of knowledge, the assembly was instead entirely taken up with who was going to gain which preferment, and what the dean of this had said to the rector of that. There was one other guest apart from myself, evidently a gentleman of some standing, and the obsequiousness of their behavior to him was such that I assumed he was a patron of the college in some form. He, however, said little, and I was placed too far away to draw him into conversation.