The King's Evil

Over thirty of them attended the meeting but they took care to leave at intervals in twos and threes. Under the terms of the Clarendon Code, a gathering of more than five adults for the purposes of worship was considered to be an unlawful assembly. If they were caught, heavy fines would be imposed. Persistent offenders could be imprisoned or even transported and Jesus-Died-To-Save- Me Thorpe belonged in that category. He was the last to slip out of the house. He had no fears for himself but family responsibilities weighed upon him. His wife, Hail- Mary, was ill and unable to attend the Quaker meeting that night. She needed him to look after her. It was a bad time for him to be apprehended so he was obliged to exercise discretion for once.

There was another reason why he had to avoid arrest. Concealed under his coat were the remaining copies of a pamphlet which he had written and printed for distribution to the Friends. His views On The Evils Of The Established Church were trenchant and they would lead to severe punishment if they fell into the hands of the authorities. Carrying such forbidden tracts on his person gave him a feeling of righteous power but it was tempered by the caution brought on by worries about Hail-Mary Thorpe's illness. Her husband had to get back to her safely.

Since she was upset that she had missed the meeting, he decided to console her by reading his pamphlet to her once again. It would be a form of medicine.

It was late as he wended his way home. Part of his journey took him along the riverbank and he could hear the Thames lapping greedily at the wharves. Many warehouses had now been rebuilt and commercial activity restored to an area blighted by the fire. Thorpe walked swiftly, glad that there were so few people about at that hour. He was leaving Queenhithe Ward when the three men lurched out ahead of him. Instinctively he stepped into a doorway, his black garb merging with the darkness to make him virtually invisible. He tightened his hold on the pamphlets beneath his coat.

Evidently, the men had not long come from a tavern. One of them paused to relieve himself against a wall and broke wind loudly at the same time. The others walked on a few paces then stopped. They were close enough to him for Thorpe to smell the ale on their breath and to hear their low whispers.

'Let us go back,' urged one. 'The nightwatchman is alone again.'

'It is too dangerous,' said another.

'Not if the old man is asleep.'

'We may not be so lucky this time.'

'Then we make our own luck,' insisted the first man, fingering the cudgel under his belt. 'We put him to sleep. One blow will be enough. We could steal every stone from Baynard's Castle before he woke up again.'

'No, I am against it.'

'Are you turning coward?'

'You know me better than that.'

'Then why hold back?'

'If we harm the old man, a hue and cry will be raised.'

'Hours later - when we are well away. I say we do it.'

'Do what?' asked the third man, lumbering over to them.

'Go back again. One more time.'

'Yes,' agreed the newcomer. 'Take all we can and fill the boat. We have never had such easy pickings. The bricks and timber are there for the taking. The house even has its own jetty. What could be better?'

They rehearsed their plans for a few minutes then linked arms before moving off. Jesus-Died-To-Save-Me Thorpe was in a quandary. Wanting to challenge them and denounce them for their sinfulness, he was realistic enough to see the folly of such an action. They would respond with violence. His wife wanted her husband at her side, not lying in a pool of blood in a dark street. Yet Thorpe was impelled to take some action. Everything about the three men offended his sensibilities. A feeling of outrage coursed through him. He watched them go then stepped out of his hiding place. Keeping to the shadows, he trailed them carefully as they made their way towards the ruins of Baynard's Castle.