“I remember it well,” he continued once I had taken it to examine. “I’ve seen it on his finger on innumerable occasions. As he never took it off, I was curious how Sarah Blundy came by it. She refused to answer, so I beat her until she snarled that it was none of my business and in any case, Grove wouldn’t need it any more.”

“She said that? ‘Grove wouldn’t need it any more?”

“Yes,” Prestcott said. “I had other things on my mind so didn’t pay that much attention at the time. Now, of course, it all seems quite important. The question is, what to do? I can hardly offer my testimony, as the magistrate will thank me kindly, then hang me as well. So I was wondering if you would take this ring and my story. Once you have gone back and spoken to Sir John Fulgrove I will be long gone, with luck.”

I thought hard, clutching the ring in my hand, and astonished by how much I did not want to believe what I was hearing. “You give me your word that what you are telling me is true?”

“Absolutely,” he replied promptly and frankly.

“I would have more sympathy if you were not also of a violent disposition yourself.”

“I am not,” he said, coloring slightly and raising his voice. “And I resent the remark. Everything I have done was to protect my own and my family’s name. There is no similarity between my case, which is an affair of honor, and hers, which is lust and theft. Sarah Blundy will do this again, believe me, doctor. She acknowledges no laws and no restraints. You do not know her, or her sort, as I do.”

“She is wild,” I admitted. “But I have also seen her polite and dutiful.”

“When she wishes,” he said dismissively. “But she is entirely without a sense of duty to her betters. That you must have discovered for yourself.”

I nodded. It was certainly true. And I thought once more of my hypothesis. I wanted further evidence of unimpeachable veracity, and now I believed I had it. Prestcott had little to gain in coming forward; indeed he potentially had much to lose. It was difficult not to believe him, and he spoke with such an intensity that it was hard to imagine he was not telling me the truth.

“I will talk to the magistrate,” I suggested. “I would not say where you are, but merely recount the story. He is a trustworthy man, I think, and keen to conclude this matter swiftly. Many in the university resent his interference, and your witness would be of great use to him. It may be that he will look kindly on you. You must take Mr. Thurloe’s advice on this, of course, but I would advise against precipitate flight.”

Prestcott considered this. “Maybe. But you must promise me that you will be careful. I am terribly afraid. If someone like Lower knows where I am, he will give me up. He is obliged to do so.”

I promised him this with great reluctance and, if I did not keep my word for reasons I will explain, at least I can say that it did Prestcott no harm.

Myattempt to keep quiet, however, led to a sad deterioration in my relations with Lower, as my absence with what he assumed was a valuable and lucrative client led him once more into jealous despondency. I have met people who would turn so to some degree but I have never met anyone like Lower, whose humor would change on the instant, without warning or good reason.

Twice now he had lashed out and vented his temper on me and I had endured it out of friendship; the third time was worst and the last. Like all the English, he drank prodigious amounts, and had thus occupied himself in my absence, so was violent in mood when I returned. When I entered the house, he was sitting by the fire, clutching himself as though to keep warm, and staring blackly at me. When he spoke he spat his words as though I was his worst enemy.

“Where in God’s name have you been?”

Tempted though I was to recount everything, I replied that I had been to see a patient, who had summoned me.

“You have reneged on our agreement, that I was to have such patients.”

“We had no agreement,” I said, astounded. “Although I am happy for you to have them. But you were bathing.”

“I would have dried myself.”

“And the patient would have been no use to you.”

“That is for me to decide.”

“Then decide now. It was John Thurloe, and as far as I could see, he is in perfect health.”

Lower snorted derisively. “You don’t even lie well. Dear God, how I am sick of your company, with your foreign ways and mincing speech. When do you go back home? I shall be glad to see the back of you.”

“Lower, what is the matter?”

“Don’t pretend you are concerned about me. The only thing you are interested in is yourself. I have shown you real friendship; took you in when you arrived, introduced you to the best people, shared my ideas with you, and see how you repay me.”

“And I am grateful,” I said, beginning to grow angry now. “Truly grateful. And have done my best to earn what I have been given. Have I not also shared my ideas with you?”

“Your ideas!” he said with total contempt. “Those aren’t ideas. Those are fancies, idle nonsense with no foundations, dreamed up merely to amuse yourself.”

“That is completely unfair. You know it. I have done nothing at all to earn your anger.”

But my protests were of no use at all. As with the last time, what I said was of no importance; when the storm burst it had to blow itself out and I could do no more to calm it than a tree caught in a tempest. This time, however, I grew angry and resentful and, rather than seeking to mollify him, I felt more keenly his unfairness and fought against his rage.

I will not repeat what was said, except to say that it was too much. Lower grew angrier and I, still unable to fathom the cause, became equally heated. All I know is that this time I was set on resisting him, and this determination drove him to more extravagant fits of fury. I was, he said, a thief, a charlatan, a fop, a papist, a liar, untrustworthy and deceitful. Like all foreigners I preferred the knife in the back to the way of honesty. I was planning to set up in London as a physician, he said, and my strenuous insistence that I fully intended to leave England as swiftly as possible only made him more furious.

Under any other circumstances, honor would have demanded that I call him out, and I suggested this, earning myself more sneers. Eventually I withdrew, exhausted and hungry, for we did not stop to eat while we battled. I went to bed deeply saddened, for I had liked him, and realized now that friendship was forever impossible. His society had brought me advantage, that is certainly true; but the cost I was forced to pay was too great. I was certain that my father, when he received my letters, would give me permission to leave and I decided that perhaps it would be best to anticipate that grant. I was, however, determined to complete the experiment I had undertaken with Mrs. Blundy; if the woman survived and I could demonstrate its efficacy, then at least I would reap something more than bitterness from the sojourn.