A Dead Man in Deptford by Anthony Burgess Page B

bones were spat out near silently. He drank his Dover ale with little finger
finickingly spread. At the end of the meal he begged pardon for
his belch.

    - Eructat cor meum, Poley said cheerfully. Skeres cheerfully
responded:
    - Et cum spiritu tuo. Then he nodded direly and left.
Poley said now they could talk. He poured wine and said:
    - You know of me? Sir Francis spoke of me?
    - He said you were in jail to trap priests.
    - They talk in their distress, many secrets are divulged in
a prison. But I am glad to be out and breathing sea air. Still,
they will talk to me for I speak their language. I was born in
the year that Mary, bloody as they call her, married Philip of
Spain. So I was brought up in the old faith and some believe I
practise it. So I will, I will go through the form, take the bread
that is God but know now that it is only flour and water. Some
know me for what I am, the more so as Sir Francis put me into
the service of Philip Sidney while he was readying himself to be
governor of Flushing. For there is no greater pope-hater than Sir
Philip. Take some more of this wine, have Skeres’s share. Oh,
I have money for you, a little, I will give it you tomorrow. And
I have your orders. You are to enrol at the College, saying you
are studying for the Church but you have doubts about it. They
welcome waverers.
    - I am not to pretend to the old faith?
    You would not deceive them as I can. Be a waverer in
sincerity and humility. You seek the light. But in truth you
seek those who are to come over to be devilish plotters. They
are plotting already. The pope has excommunicated the Queen,
who, for good measure, is said to be illegitimate, which, if we
reject divorce, she is. The Queen may in all Catholic holiness be
driven off the throne and another queen installed there. Which
queen you know.
    - You mean plots to kill the Queen?
    - That sounds coarse, worthy of Skeres. Some talk of removing and sequestering, granting the sad berth at Fotheringay which
will then be vacated. Some raise holy eyes to heaven in shock at talk of killing a queen, but it is all show. They will assassinate
if they can, and they think they can. The bad times are coming.
France and Spain lick their lips in prospect of restoring England
to the fold. You have a holy work in hand.

    - What can I do?
    - Listen. Take names. We will be waiting at this end. If
you had Skeres with you there would be quick dispatching in
tavern brawls. Skeres is good at brawls, as you may imagine.
He is probably into one now, but that will have nothing to do
with our business. He goes with me to Paris, chiefly as my
protector. In Paris I need protection. It is a filthy city. But
no more of that. Leave Paris to me. You will like Rheims. It
is a gentle town where they gently talk of gently killing queens.
Would you wish tonight to share a bed with Skeres? No, I can
see not. Well, you shall have your own rough pallet.
    - Skeres said something about shrugging. Shrugging things
away. What does he mean?
    - It is the two stages of leaving the Service. Shrugging is the
first, the second is not shrugging. But you are young, ambitious,
a Cambridge man, and you will not leave the Service. To protect
the realm is a life’s work. A man does not in flippancy abandon
it. But enough of that. You have more questions?
    - How long must I be in Rheims?
    - You may stay as long as a month without charge. They
are welcoming because they think they have great gentle power
of gentle persuasion. You tell them what you told Sir Francis,
that you are a student of divinity but the studies have engendered
grave doubts. These you wish resolved. They will try to resolve
them. (Here he chuckled.) After a brief time go to mass, even
to confession. In confessionals a lot can be heard. And in the
taverns and the dormitories. I do not doubt you will pick up
some names. With luck we sail at dawn. I spoke to the captain
of the Great Eliza, a pretentious name for a