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William?” Walsingham walked toward the fireplace. He opened his robe to feel the heat and stood looking into the flames. “He will live. Probably. I do not greatly care. How much he knows is what interests me.”
    â€œYou have no more information about his attacker?”
    â€œNo. It was stupid of Crackenthorpe to kill him. The pistol was German, very expensive, but anyone of rank could have bought it. The knives were from various makers in London and the north. They tell us nothing.”
    â€œSo, what are you going to do?”
    â€œI have not decided. If we let him go, will he act as bait? Or will he warn Machyn and the others?”
    Cecil set down his paper. “I do not believe we have a choice. If he will not tell us about the chronicle, it is likely that he knows little or nothing about it. I’m sure you have tried your usual methods. We must be more imaginative, more creative.”
    Walsingham walked toward his patron and lifted a goblet from the table. “That would be dangerous.”
    â€œOur situation was far more dangerous before the message came from Scotland. Only we did not know it.”
    Walsingham nodded. “I did think of burning Machyn’s house on the assumption that we would destroy everything inside, including the chronicle.”
    â€œFires are dangerous in London.”
    Walsingham’s eyes narrowed. “What concerned me was that we would be unable to verify the chronicle was there. We would always be worried that he had given it to one of the other so-called Knights of the Round Table. How many of them are there? Draper said four, but that seems too few. So we do not know. But I do know you could not look her majesty in the eye and tell her that you simply think that the chronicle has been destroyed. Lord Dudley would pour scorn on you—and in front of her. You would be forced from her presence.”
    Cecil did not react. Walsingham was often direct like this with him, to the point of rudeness. He was the same with others too, even the queen herself. It was an unfortunate side effect of his intense focus, his determination to achieve results. It was best ignored.
    â€œI am not going to fail her, Francis,” Cecil replied calmly, looking at the next item on the pile of papers. “You might be too young to remember her brother’s settlement of the throne but, believe me, it still rankles with her majesty.”
    Walsingham noted the comment about his age. “I might be younger than you, Sir William, but I know. You signed the document by which King Edward disinherited both his sisters…”
    Cecil looked up sharply. “So did Dudley’s father, the duke of Northumberland.”
    â€œBut when King Edward was dead, and Mary seized power and executed Jane Gray, you blamed Northumberland entirely. You stood by and let him be executed as well. And now his son is her favorite. In jumping between these stepping stones, you have only narrowly avoided being swept away by the torrent.”
    Cecil retained his composure. “I sometimes suspect that you forget to whom you are speaking. I was only a witness of that disinheritance, not the protagonist.”
    Walsingham set his cup down carefully on the table. He looked Cecil straight in the eye. “I never forget to whom I am speaking, especially not when it’s you, Sir William. I am grateful for your patronage every hour of the day. I am grateful for my place in Parliament. But you would not continue to value me if I forgot your weaknesses. You should pay more attention to them yourself. And every lie you utter is a weakness, for every lie is a hostage to the truth. I know you were more than a witness. You confessed as much to the late queen. I heard so from those who were there.”
    Cecil hesitated, then made himself smile. “True, Francis. How true. I too would have been executed if it had not been for the late queen, God rest her soul. And her sister, our blessed