'Our rule is sweet but light,' Master Joseph replied.

Corbett looked quickly at him; he was sure he detected a note of sarcasm in the man's voice.

'What we do,' Master Joseph continued hurriedly, 'is rise, say prayers, study, do some work and return for community prayers and a meal at night.'

'And you never leave here?' Monck asked.

'Only for our journeys to Bishop's Lynn.' This time it was Philip Nettler who replied. 'Father Joseph and I go there when, now and again, we need supplies and when a period of purification is over.'

'Purification?' Monck asked innocently as if that was the first time he had heard the word.

'We are the Pastoureaux.' Master Joseph enthused. 'We are Christ's good shepherds. We accept young men and women of good standing and prepare them in our rule.' He cleared his throat. 'When they are ready we take them to as port, in our case, Bishop's Lynn. We secure passage for them abroad, to our house at Bethlehem, where Christ will come again.'

'You really believe that?' Monck asked, not bothering to hide his sneer.

'Don't you?' Master Joseph asked, blue eyes widening in surprise. 'Don't you, Master Monck, accept the Church's teaching that Christ will come again?'

Monck sensed the theological trap opening for him and drew back.

'It's just strange,' he muttered.

'I have been there,' Joseph said. 'And so has Philip. The Lord is coming.'

Monck returned to the attack. 'But in France and on the Rhine the Pastoureaux are ungodly!'

Master Joseph spread his hands. 'Are we to be held accountable for that? Surely some of your priests are not what they should be?' He lowered his voice to a mock whisper. 'They even say that not all friars, monks, bishops – even popes – are what they should be.'

Philip Nettler, who had been busy hobbling their horses, now came back, wiping his hands on his brown fustian robe. He looked squarely at Gurney.