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'These are symptoms of what poison?'

Mr Oxendale threw a sidelong glance at the apothecary. 'I know of a berry whose juice creates these symptoms in the tiniest doses. It is colourless and so powerful that even the volume of a pinhead is fatal. Sometimes, I am told, death occurs within twenty minutes.'

'And how long did Mr Falconer take to die?'

'Three hours. For most of that time he was conscious and in great pain, but unable to speak because of the locked jaw.'

Sir Edward stood back to show that he was finished.

Ralph Lane looked directly at Thomas Harriot. 'Do you wish to question the physician?' Mr Harriot simply shook his head.

Sir Edward said, 'In that case I will proceed to question the prisoner.'

Mr Rosen's eyes were wandering in his head, as if he was suffering from some fever. His brow was damp with sweat.

Sir Edward's tone, it seemed to me, was domineering. 'Your name?'

'Abraham Rosen.'

'You are a Jew, then?'

'I am, sir.'

'And what is a Jew doing on a Queen's expedition?'

'Sir, I was pressed into service with Frobisher two years ago. I believe I served well, and gained experience with maladies which may afflict mariners in the tropic latitudes, as well as with the treatment of many wounds. Because of my experience I was approached by a messenger and agreed to serve again.'

'And where do you practise your trade?'

'I own a pharmacopoeia in London.'

'North or south of the bridge?'

'South.'

'In Southwark?' Sir Edward raised his voice as if in surprise, although I do not doubt he knew the answer before he asked. 'You live with thieves and whores?'

'My trade is needed there as elsewhere. And a Jew is not always welcome in the fashionable parts of the city.'

'As an apothecary, you have knowledge of herbs?'

'I have. And of balms and plasters.'

'Do you practise the medicine of the Galens, or do you belong to the reformers?'

'In truth I do not know. No herb has ever cured the great pox or plague and I believe that the reformers should be allowed to develop their methods. But I take whatever
materia medica
I believe to be appropriate to the disease, whether the herbs of the Galenists or the chemicals of the Paracelsians.'

'You have a knowledge of herbs, then?'

'Indeed.'

'Do you claim to know more than Mr Oxendale on these matters?'

'In truth?' The apothecary glanced nervously at Ralph. 'In truth, I think Mr Oxendale knows little of these matters.' I sensed a trap and was surprised that the apothecary did not see it. No doubt his mind was clouded with fear. He added, with a touch of pride, 'I have studied under both Peter Severinus and Thomas Erastus.'

Sir Edward now sprang his trap. 'And does this deep knowledge of herbs include poisons?'

'Poisons?' The apothecary's voice quavered.

'Poisons.'

'I have some slight knowledge of them.'

'I see. A deep knowledge of herbs but only a slight knowledge of poisons.' Sir Edward now nodded to a wrinkled man in a black leather tunic, sitting behind the gentlemen. The man scurried to the advocate, handed over a small black box and retreated to his seat.

'You recognise this box?' Sir Edward asked. There was a hint of triumph in his voice.

It seemed impossible, but the man's face, already ruined with distress, grew even more distraught. 'It is part of my medical store.'

'Indeed.' The word was delivered in a mocking fashion. 'It was taken from your quarters yesterday.'

The lawyer placed the box on the table in front of Ralph Lane, who opened the lid and peered in. The governor pulled out a small glass phial containing dried, blackened leaves.

I gasped with the shock of recognition. For I had seen such leaves before, in the secret bulkhead over Marmaduke's berth. I knew in an instant that Mr Rosen was an innocent man and that the murderers were Marmaduke, Rowse and Kendall, two of whom were the apothecary's judges! And I also knew that, to reveal my knowledge and save Mr Rosen, I would myself meet the hangman. I glanced around surreptitiously but nobody had seen my sudden alarm: all eyes were on the glass jar. What was I to do?

The governor's gruff tone brought me back from my horrible dilemma. 'What is this?' he asked the prisoner.

'Those are the leaves of the monk's hood,' said the apothecary, who seemed ready, to faint. The weight of the chains round his wrists seemed to be pulling his arms out.

The lawyer anticipated Ralph Lane's question. 'Tell us about the monk's hood.'

'It is medicinal.'

'And if you were asked to eat a leaf?'

'Taken in excess, it is
veneficia.''

'Veneficia?
Which is, in the vulgar?'

'Poison.'

'Speak up.'

'Poison.'

The prisoner nodded abjectly.

Poison.

The room could have been filled with corpses. Sir Edward stayed silent for some moments, a sneer on his face. The word poison spread through the air like a miasma. Then he said, 'This plant, is it not poisonous in the extreme?'

'Yes, but only in excess.'

'How much excess? If we were to place some on your tongue now, how much would you allow to sit on it?'

The apothecary was trapped. He whispered, 'It will kill in very small quantities.'

'Again! Speak up!' Lane commanded sharply.

'With a tiny dose?' Sir Edward asked.

'Yes.'

'Indeed. And so when you say "in excess", in fact you mean a tiny spot?'

Mr Rosen nodded miserably.

'Describe the symptoms of poisoning by monk's hood.'

'Death.'

A ripple of laughter briefly broke the tension in the room, quickly stilled by Lane's glare.

'And before death, would you not say, first, a numbing and tingling in the mouth?'

'Yes, starting within minutes of taking the poison.'

'A mere tingling in the mouth? An easy death, then? Or does the tingling spread?'

'It spreads to the throat and then the whole body. The victim loses sight and hearing, although his mental faculties remain.'

'He is blind, deaf and paralysed, and yet remains aware of what is happening to him?'

The apothecary nodded helplessly. 'His pupils become dilated. He will eventually die through an inability to breathe.'

'Eventually? And how long will this take?'

'Minutes to hours, depending on the dose.'

The lawyer nodded. Ralph Lane was looking at the contents of the box with something like horror. He picked out another phial. It was filled with bright green, hard-shelled and dessicated insects. I had seen these too, in Marmaduke's secret panel.

The apothecary, his brow wet with sweat, said, 'Spanish fly.'

'Spanish fly? A poison again?' The governor's brow was furrowed.

'Yes sir, but. ..'

'And this?'

'It is a plant from South America. I obtained it on my voyage with Captain Frobisher..'

'A poison, no doubt?' The governor's eyes were filled with accusation.

'Yes, sir.' The apothecary's voice was now barely audible, and I had to strain to hear him.

'This?'

'Berries.'

'I can see that they are berries.'

'They are of the type which the surgeon-barber thinks killed Simon Fludd.'

Another phial. 'I think I have seen this.'

'Yes, sir. Those are the leaves of the belladonna plant.'

The governor pulled out the cork. 'Sir,' the apothecary interrupted quickly, 'the poison can enter the body through the skin.'

Lane hastily replaced the cork and dropped the phial back in the box. 'And the symptoms of belladonna poisoning?' he asked, his voice grim.

'There is a difficulty in swallowing, the skin flushes, there is increasing headache leading to hallucinations. Later there is paralysis leading to death.'

'And the eyes?' the lawyer asked. 'You fail to mention the most conspicuous feature of death by belladonna.'

The apothecary briefly covered his face with his hands, as if this would make his terrible predicament disappear. 'The pupils are dilated, so much so that the eyes appear black. It is indeed the most distinctive feature of the disease. In small doses it is used to enhance the beauty of women's eyes. Hence the name, bella donna.'

Sir Edward seized the opportunity for ridicule. 'And you possess this because you propose to beautify the eyes of the mariners? Or perhaps the soldiers? Or the female savages?' A ripple of laughter went through the crowded chapel. Mr Rosen remained silent, his face a mass of misery.

'And when the surgeon-barber and you attended to the unfortunate Mr Falconer...'

'His eyes were black with the distension of the pupils.'

'And do you agree with Mr Oxendale's diagnosis, that Mr Falconer was poisoned?'

'I do, but not by a single substance. In my opinion the symptoms are better described by a combination of poisons.'

'Indeed? You correct the opinion of the physician? It seems your knowledge of poisons is more extensive than you would have us believe.'

There was a murmur of assent around the chapel, quickly stilled by a look from the governor. Thomas Harriot stood up. 'I wish to question the apothecary.'

Sir Edward bowed ironically and stepped back.

Thomas approached the bench and picked up the phial of dried green insects. 'What are the medicinal properties of the Spanish fly?' he asked, turning to the apothecary.

'In small quantities the crushed shell is an aphrodisiac.'

Ribald laughter filled the chapel. Even Ralph Lane smiled briefly. Sir Edward interrupted, his voice full of exaggerated sarcasm: 'What need is there of an aphrodisiac on this voyage?'

'None, sir. But it also eases blisters on the skin. Several in this chapel will testify to its benefits.' There was a murmur of agreement amongst the crowd.

Thomas continued, 'And the belladonna?'

'It can be used in tiny amounts to treat sickness arising from the motion of a ship, and I have used it to the benefit of several mariners, and even some of the gentlemen. Marmaduke StClair will verify this.'

'And the berry? The thing which may have killed David Falconer, on its own or as part of a combination?'

'I have been using it as rat bait. From my experiments I have found it to be very successful. I believe that larger quantities of the berry carried on future expeditions will be extremely useful.' There was a murmuring from the crowd. Rats were the bane of our existence and destroyers of our food. The governor leaned forwards, his eyes narrowed with concentration. I was filled with admiration for my master. Two minutes ago, it had seemed certain that the apothecary was doomed. But with a few deft questions the whole issue of his guilt had been turned around. Surely the court could not now find him guilty?

Mr Harriot continued, 'And what about the plant from South America?'

There was a tiny hesitation from Mr Rosen. 'It is used by some tribes because it causes excitement, or visions of flying or floating. I have it simply because I wish to deepen my knowledge of herbs.' Mr Harriot looked at Ralph Lane for some seconds, without speaking a word, and then returned to his seat.

Sir Edward now stood up and turned to face Mr Lane. There was anger on every line of the lawyer's face. I sensed that he was not truly so but was acting the part to influence the judges by emotion. His voice was raised in this pretence of anger. 'The apothecary condemns himself with his own mouth. You see how he twists reason? A box full of deadly poisons becomes medicine for blisters or sea sickness, or rat bait, or a subject for curiosity. We see here, demonstrated before our eyes, the cunning of the witch. See how he conceals his true intentions with clever words. But the very cleverness of the words are themselves evidence against him. He stands condemned by his own mouth.'

'I am not a witch!' Rosen cried in despair.

'But would a witch not say the same? Are we to expect truth from the mouth of one?' Sir Edward approached to within two feet of the terrified apothecary. 'How do you come to live in England?'

'I fled persecution in Bremen.' The apothecary's voice was anguished. 'I found my way to England after many adventures.'

Sir Edward nodded. He stepped forward to Ralph Lane's desk and placed his hand on the
Malleus.
'This book, Governor, was written by Kramer and Sprenger on the instruction of the pontiff Pope Innocent the Eighth, because of the extent of witchcraft which existed throughout Germany, particularly in Cologne, Mainz and
Bremen.'
He stepped back. There was a tone of finality in his voice. 'I do not believe I need to say more. The deadly poisons found amongst the
materia medica
of this wretch, his arrival from the nest of witches which is Bremen, his casuistry under questioning, which would do a Jesuit proud, these things are evidence enough for me. And they should be enough for this court. That he is a murderer is surely now proven. But it is his attempt to destroy our expedition which is his crime amongst crimes. No Englishman, this. He is an agent of Spain and must suffer the consequences.'

Mr Harriot stood up again and walked towards Ralph. The apothecary followed my master with eyes full of hope and desperation. Thomas spoke in a quiet, almost gentle voice, in stark contrast to the strident tones of Sir Edward. 'It surprises me to hear Sir Edward speak of Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger as if they were the touchstones of wisdom. They were Dominicans! Has he converted to the Catholic faith? As to the prevalence of witches in Germany, since witches do not exist in the first place, this can reflect nothing more than the gullibility and proneness to suggestion amongst the people of those provinces. And as to the poisons, what nonsense Sir Edward speaks!'

The lawyer glared at Thomas but my spiritual mentor ignored him. 'An apothecary must of necessity carry many herbs and substances which are poisonous when taken in excess. Mr Rosen has given adequate explanations for his possession of them. And in any case, who is to say that he alone had access to them? No witness saw Mr Rosen, or for that matter anyone else, administer them. The man is innocent. Mr Lane, let the apothecary go free.'