I hesitated a moment, then said, ‘We will. There must be some back stairs we could use.’
He pursed his lips. ‘Two shillings a night’s the price. I’ll show you where to take her.’ Even in his terror of gaol fever the man’s greed glinted in his sharp eyes.
‘Agreed,’ I said, though the price was outrageous. I reached for my purse and held up a gold half angel. ‘For five nights. That’ll cover her till she goes before Forbizer.’
That seemed to decide the wretch. He nodded, holding out his hand for the coin.
IT WAS A NIGHTMARE climb, up four floors from the Hole to the tower room my half angel had bought. The gaoler walked well ahead with a candle while Barak and Joseph carried the unconscious Elizabeth between them. I clambered up behind as they half-dragged, half-carried the poor girl up the stone steps, the outlines of Elizabeth’s and Barak’s two shaven heads making weird shadows on the walls. A vile smell came from poor Elizabeth’s unwashed, feverish body. As I climbed painfully upwards, I realized my strength was ebbing again —I could not possibly make it to the well that night.
We were shown into a light, airy room with a good bed with a blanket, a ewer of water on a table and a large window which though barred was at least open; a gentleman prisoner’s room. Joseph and Barak laid Elizabeth on the bed. She seemed unaware of her removal, only stirring slightly and moaning, Then she muttered a name. ‘Sarah,’ she muttered. ‘Oh, Sarah.’
Joseph bit his lip. ‘The girl who went to Bedlam,’ he whispered.
I nodded. ‘Maybe if she recovers she will speak at last, tell us why the girl upset her so. Tell us everything she has chosen to keep to herself while we are distracted with worry,’ I added with sudden bitterness.
Joseph looked at me, then said softly, ‘I become angered with her too.’
I sighed. ‘My apothecary should be here soon.’
‘You are generous, sir,’ Joseph said. ‘How much—’
I raised a hand. ‘No, Joseph, we can discuss that later. Barak, you look exhausted. You should go home.’
‘I can stay,’ he said. ‘I’d like to see whether the Old Moor can help her.’
It was strange, even touching, to see how absorbed he had become in Elizabeth’s fate. Yet I did not want him here when Guy came; I had secreted the pewter jar of Greek Fire in a pocket of my robe. ‘No, go,’ I said sharply. ‘I don’t want you risking gaol fever, I need you fit.’
He nodded reluctantly and went out. I clutched at the jar of Greek Fire as Joseph and I stood in silence, listening to Elizabeth’s fevered breathing.
GUY ARRIVED an hour later. The gaoler himself fetched him up, goggling at his brown face till I bade him sharply to be gone. I introduced Guy to Joseph, who likewise stared at him in surprise, although Guy affected not to notice.
‘So this is the poor girl whose travails have worried you so,’ he said to me.
‘Yes.’ I told him of the onset of her fever. He looked at her for a long moment.
‘I don’t think it’s gaol fever,’ he said at length. ‘The fever would be higher. I’m not sure what it is. It would help to see her urine. Does she have a pisspot ?’
‘She was left to piss on the straw in the Hole.’
He shook his head. ‘Then I will give her something to try and stop her burning up, and it would be good if she were to be washed and that filthy dress taken off her.’
Joseph blushed. ‘Sir, it would hardly be proper for me to see her unclothed—’
‘I will do it, if you like. In my trade a naked body is hardly a new sight. Could you buy her a shift tomorrow and bring it here?’
‘Yes. Yes, I will.’
As we watched Elizabeth stirred and made a little moan, then lay back again. Guy shook his head. ‘What pain and anger there are in that face, even while her mind sleeps.’
‘Is there any hope, sir?’ Joseph asked.
‘I do not know,’ Guy said frankly. ‘This may be one of those cases where much depends on the sufferer’s will to live.’
‘Then she will surely die,’ he said.
‘Come, we do not know that.’ Guy smiled gently. ‘And now, if you will leave me, I will wash her.’
Joseph and I waited outside while Guy carried out his task. ‘I cannot help being angered, sir,’ he said. ‘But I love her; for all she has put me through I still love her.’
I touched his shoulder. ‘That is very plain, Joseph.’
At length Guy called us back. He had laid Elizabeth under the blanket and lit some sort of oil in a lamp, which made a sweet smell in the room. A cloth, black with dirt, floated in the ewer. Elizabeth’s face was clean, the first time I had seen it so.
‘She is pretty,’ I said. ‘How sad she should come to this.’
‘Sad whether she is pretty or ugly,’ Guy said.