‘And I will tell you something even more ironic, Kit. For a short time Sir Francis even believed he could turn Babington, persuade him to work for us. I managed to put a stop to that idea.’

‘A double agent?’ I said weakly. I was having difficulty keeping up with all this, for I had not been aware of some of the details of the conspiracy Phelippes had been listing.

‘Aye, if you like. A double agent. But it would have been much too risky. Babington is genuinely a devout Catholic, not like Gifford, who comes from an old Catholic family but does not have a scrap of religious faith in his bones. Moreover, Babington has a puppy-like devotion to the Scots queen. He was a page in Shrewsbury’s household when Shrewsbury was her guardian, and he saw her as a maiden in distress, like some damsel locked away in a tower in a tale of chivalry and knightly prowess! The truth is, she is a scheming harpy with her eye on the English throne, now that the French and the Scots have thrown her out. And her enormous household has been eating up the Queen’s substance for years. Maiden in distress!’ He snorted in contempt.

‘So what is to be done?’ I asked hesitantly. I was not sure whether Phelippes was using me merely to work off his fury, or whether there was some other purpose behind all this.

‘In the first place, we have told Poley to lead him by the nose for the moment. Keep him corresponding with the Scottish woman, but also keep the door to Walsingham open a crack. The latest plan is for Babington’s band of heroes to attack Chartley and free Mary, while a group of assassins, including Savage, attack and murder the Queen. At the same time the invaders will land and march on London, unimpeded by any English army, because, of course, we know nothing about all this. If a nervous Babington thinks he can always back out at the last minute and reveal all to Walsingham, then he is more likely to carry on with his hare-brained schemes.’

‘I see. And Sir Francis’s purpose in all this is?’

‘The purpose is to trap Mary when she admits she is a party to this. She has been a party to other conspiracies, but she has been clever enough to conceal the evidence. This time, she is on the brink of revealing herself. Then, under the Instrument of Association, which she has signed, and the Act for the Queen’s Surety, she is guilty of treason.’

‘I see,’ I said again, and this time I did see. So this was what Walsingham and Phelippes were working for, what all this web of intrigue and observation was intended to entrap. By watching every move, but waiting and not showing their hand, they hoped that Mary would drop her guard.

‘Are there any letters to decipher today, Master Phelippes? Because if not . . .’

‘No, Sir Francis wants to see you. He should be back from Whitehall Palace by now. Come with me and we will see whether he is in his office.’

Sir Francis must just have arrived, for he was standing and sorting through the papers on his desk.

‘Ah, come in, Thomas, Kit. Have you explained to him yet, Thomas?’

‘No, Sir Francis. I thought you wished to do so yourself.’

‘Very well. Sit down, both of you.’ He settled himself behind his desk.

‘Kit, we have both been very pleased with the work you have done here. You also managed the business at Hartwell Hall admirably. As far as we can tell, your sudden departure aroused no suspicions and you enabled us to take control of another courier route.’

I inclined my head. I was not sure where this was leading, but I dreaded that it might be a preliminary to sending me on another mission like the one to the Fitzgeralds. I had managed the deception once, for just a week. I did not think I could do it again.

‘As I am sure you must have become aware, Thomas and I have to work with some very disreputable and unreliable people – liars, traitors, double agents. You have convinced us of your decency and honesty. Moreover, you have your own thoroughly respectable profession of medicine, unlike the many layabouts we are forced to employ.’

He fixed me with a shrewd gaze.

‘I can see you are looking apprehensive. Please do not think that I am going to ask you to give up being a physician and become an informant! What I would like to do is to use you from time to time, when an impeccably honest face will serve the Queen and the country better than half a dozen slippery men. Like Poley.’

He smiled. Clearly he knew my aversion to the man.

‘Thomas will be riding down to Sussex in two days’ time,’ he said, ‘to the port of Rye. We have received information that an attempt will be made to smuggle two more so-called priests into the country through Sussex sometime next week. Probably not through Rye itself – it is too well guarded by our customs men and searchers. It is more likely that they will choose some small port nearby, one of the fishing villages that lie along the coast there. It is an easy matter for a fishing boat to slip across the Channel to Dieppe or Calais, then sail innocently back into its home port with unwelcome visitors hidden amongst the barrels of fish.’

A sudden flash of memory seized me. I too had once hidden in the bottom of a fishing boat.

‘Once we have picked up the trail,’ Phelippes said, ‘we will either follow them or arrest them, as seems best at the time.’

‘I want you to go with Thomas,’ Sir Francis said. ‘It is time you learned more of our work and this will give you the opportunity.’

I opened my mouth to protest that I was not an agent in Sir Francis’s service. That it had never been my intention even to be a code-breaker. That I did not want to become more embroiled in this murky world than I was already.

Then I closed my mouth again. A sudden and unexpected surge of excitement set my heart beating faster. I smiled at Sir Francis. ‘In two days, did you say?’

Chapter Eleven

Our progress down to Sussex was neither secret nor unobtrusive. Phelippes knew very well how much he was hated by those bent on treason and although he was confident that he had certain knowledge of most of the traitors in the country, even he could not know them all. Moreover, they were a slippery lot. Even Walsingham’s own agents, like Gifford, had a habit of disappearing, sometimes for weeks at a time.

‘A few weeks ago,’ Phelippes said to me as we rode south together, ‘we needed to send Gilbert Gifford on a mission to France, to reassure the conspirators there, especially Thomas Morgan, that he was still acting for them. While he was away, we were obliged to employ another man as courier in his place, without telling him that he was, in fact, acting for Sir Francis. This meant using a very roundabout and difficult way of intercepting the letters and passing them on, to prevent his realising this. Gifford recommended a cousin of his, Thomas Barnes, a known Catholic who would be accepted by Mary’s party.’

I had heard mention of Barnes, but I had paid little attention, as it did not seem to concern me.

‘Barnes has disappeared,’ Phelippes said. ‘Gifford could not find him. We could not find him. For all we know, he may be dead, or he may reappear tomorrow. Of course, our greatest fear has been that Barnes discovered the truth about the secret route via the beer barrels and revealed to the Scottish queen that her correspondence was being watched by us. So far, that does not seem to have happened. But the danger is always there. And any one of our agents could be turned by the enemy at any time and the first person they would want to eliminate, after Sir Francis, is me. So you are taking quite a gamble, young Kit, riding in company with me.’