‘Yes, sir,' the steward replied, tugging at his forelock and glancing at the landlord.

This is Dr Mirabilis,' the landlord declared in a hushed voice. 'A physician of London, patronised by the great Cardinal himself. On his way to see relatives in Norwich.'

Oh Lord. I fought to keep my face straight and stuck my face into my tankard. Quicksilver, of course, acted the part, and old Marlowe would have given his left hand to have seen it. The tavern's best chair was pushed up, and he sat down on it like a king on his throne, looking severely over his spectacles at the steward. 'Pimples and loose bowels,' he repeated. ‘Yes, my lord.'

Quicksilver pulled a face and clicked his fingers. 'An undoubted case of Rotterus Arsicus,' he declared grandly. ‘Is it contagious?' the steward asked.

'Don't be stupid!' Quicksilver replied. 'But it's a savage ailment. I have treated it before in Montpellier and Salerno.' 'Is it fatal?' the landlord asked hopefully.

'How long have the victims been suffering?' Quicksilver demanded gravely. 'About three days. Yes, my lord, this is the third day.'

'It takes a week,' Quicksilver declared pompously, ‘before the real rottenness sets in and death ensues.'

The steward nearly dropped his tankard, and had to be helped to a stool. I don't think he was really bothered about the Poppletons, but the prospect of losing his sinecure made him weak at the knees.

'Oh, good sir,' he gasped, mopping his brow, 'can you help?' 'Of course!'

'And how much will it cost?' The steward screwed his face up into what he thought was a shrewd look.

'Cost! Cost! You dare to talk to me about cost? Me, Dr Mirabilis!'

Quicksilver half rose out of his chair, but the steward threw himself on his knees. 'My lord, come with me, please!' he begged.

The good physician finally agreed and, without even a glance at me, stepped out of the tavern, the steward trotting ahead of him. I waited till they had gone, then fled the place to laugh myself witless in a ditch. Well, the bait was down, the lure was out. Later that night I stole back and met Quicksilver under the moonlight by the gibbet near the crossroads. The rogue was laughing fit to burst.