Book: Speaks the Nightbird 21 страница

Mrs. Nettles directed the servant girl to get what Dr. Shields had requested. The blood kept falling, drop after drop, into the red pond.

Bidwell cleared his throat. " Magistrate? Can you hear me? "

" He hears you, " Shields said, " but let him be. He needs no bothering. "

" I only wish ro ask him a question. "

Woodward opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Up there he could see a brown waterstain. " Go ahead, " he rasped.

" What did he say? " Bidwell asked, coming nearer to the bed.

" He said to ask your question, " the doctor told him, looking down at the bowl to see that almost two ounces of life's fluid had so far been collected.

" Good. My question, sir, is this: what time will you be able to commence the trial today? "

Woodward's eyes found the face of Dr. Shields above him.

" What say you? " Bidwell stood beside the bed, keeping his gaze averted from the dripping blood. " This afternoon, perhaps? "

Woodward swallowed thickly; the raw pain in his throat was returning with a vengeance. " I. . . don't know... if I can—"

" Actually, " Dr. Shields spoke up, " you might consider returning to your task, sir. Lying abed too long does no soul any goodB He glanced toward Bidwell, and Woodward saw the other man's face doubly reflected in the doctor's spectacles. " We wish to keep your circulation from stagnating. It would also do you good, I think, to put your mind to proper use. "

" Yes! " Bidwell said. " My sentiments exactly! "

" However, " the doctor amended, " I would not suggest you sit in that putrid gaol without some protection from the vapors. Robert, do you have a coat that might fit the magistrate? "

" If not, I can find one. "

" All right. I'm going to prepare a liniment for you that should be smeared liberally upon your throat, chest, and back. It will stain your shirt and coat beyond hope, so give them up for lost. I wish you to wear a scarf around your throat after the liniment has been applied. " He looked at Mrs. Nettles. " The magistrate will require a diet of soup and pap. Nothing solid until I give the word. Understood? "

" Yes sir. "

" I'll send a servant to inform Elias Garrick he won't be needed at the gaol until. . . what time would you say, Ben? " Bid-well asked with all innocence. The doctor didn't answer, but instead watched the blood that continued to collect in the cup. " What say, Ben? " Bidwell lifted his eyebrows.

Woodward heard Dr. Shields give a heavy sigh. Then the doctor answered, " Two o'clock would be sufficient. Depending, of course, on the magistrate's desire to return to his task. "

" Well, that's most of nine hours from now! " Great exultation was evident in Bidwell's voice. " Surely you can be rested and ready to continue the trial by then, Magistrate? "

" I'm not sure. I feel so poorly. "

" Well of course you feel poorly at the moment, but a few hours of sleep will do wonders for you! Isn't that right, Ben? "

" He may feel stronger later in the day, yes, " Shields said, with lackluster enthusiasm.

Bidwell grinned broadly. " There you have it! I should want to get out of this room and do something constructive, myself. "

Woodward was hurting and his mind was fogged, but he knew precisely what Bidwell's prime interest in his health concerned. He was of the opinion that the sooner he completed the trial and delivered sentence, the sooner he might quit this swamphole and return to Charles Town.

" Very well, " he managed to say. " If I am able, I'll hear Mr. Garrick at two o'clock. "

" Wonderful! " Bidwell almost clapped his hands with joy; his obvious disregard for the magistrate's condition earned him a dagger of a glance from Dr. Shields, but he paid no heed. " I'll make certain Elias is at the gaol promptly on the hour. "

Shortly afterward, the servant girl returned to the room with the pan of cool water, a cloth, and a cup of rum. When Dr. Shields saw that nearly four ounces of blood had dripped into the bowl, he said, " Mrs. Nettles, help me sit him up, please. " Together they got the magistrate up to a sitting position. " Lean your head forward, " Shields instructed him, and he immersed the cloth into the water and pressed it tightly against the incisions. " I have a brown jar in my case, " he told the servant girl. " Fetch it out and open it. " Shields scooped out some of the thick amber-colored ointment—a mixture of honey, pine oil, and hogsfat— and smeared it over the wounds. He repeated the process, and in so doing sealed together the edges of the cuts.

Woodward was light-headed. He felt sick to his stomach, but his breathing was so relieved that he didn't care. " Drink this down, " Shields said, holding the rum cup to the magistrate's lips, and Woodward finished it off with three gulps. His throat flared again as the liquor scorched it, but after the rum was consumed he did feel so much the better.

" You should sleep now, " Shields said. " I'll go directly and make up the liniment. " He gave the bleeding bowl to the servant girl. " Dispose of this and return the bowl here when you're done. " She accepted it, but held it at arm's length. Shields returned the lancet to the leather sheath. " We will have to bleed you again tonight, " he said to Woodward, " lest the condition recur. " Woodward nodded, his eyes glazed over and his mouth numb. Shields turned his attention to Bidwell. " He should be looked in upon every hour. I'll return at ten o'clock to apply the liniment. "

" Thank you, Ben, " Bidwell said. " You're a true friend. "

" I do what has to be done, " Shields replied, returning his implements and medicines to the carrying case. " I trust you will do likewise? "

" You may rely on me. "

" Magistrate, lie down and keep this cloth pressed against the incisions, as there may be some leakage. "

" Mrs. Nettles, " Bidwell said, " will you see the doctor out? "

" No need. " Shields closed his case and picked it up. Behind his spectacles, his eyes were dead. " I know the way. "

" Thank you for your help, doctor, " Woodward whispered. " I do think I can sleep awhile. " He heard the first cock crow outside.

Shields left the room and went downstairs. At the bottom of the staircase he was stopped by the servant girl who had attended him. She said, " Doctor, suh? Will you be needin' this? "

" Yes, " he replied, " I think I shall, " and he took from her the jug of rum she had uncorked. Then he continued on his way, out into the somber gray light and chilly drizzling rain.

BEFORE HANNIBAL GREEN arrived at the gaol with the prisoners' breakfast of biscuits and eggs, Matthew and Rachel received another visitor.

The door, its broken chain yet unmended by the blacksmith, was opened and there entered a slim black-suited figure, carrying a lantern with which to illume the murky confines.

" Who is that? " Matthew asked sharply, as the person's stealthy approach alarmed him. He'd awakened to a ragged chorus of rooster crows a short time previously, and had just finished relieving his bladder in his waste bucket. He was still in a bleary state, which caused him to fear for a few seconds that Satan himself had come to visit Rachel.

" Quiet, clerk! " came the stern reply. " Tis not thee I have business with. " Exodus Jerusalem, his prune of a face painted ruddy gold by the candlelight, wore his tricorn hat pulled low over his forehead. He passed by Matthew's cage and aimed the light toward Rachel. She was washing her face from her water bucket, her ebony hair wet and slicked back.

" Good morning to thee, " the preacher said. She continued as if no one had spoken. " Well, thou canst be mute if thee please. But thou should not play at being deaf, as I have some words of interest. "

" You're not supposed to be in here, " Matthew said. " Mr. Green is—"

" The entry was not locked, was it? And as a commander in the army of God, I have a right to visit the battlefield, do I not? " He cast Matthew a bone-freezing stare, and then looked again upon Rachel. " Witch Howarth? " he said, his voice silken. " I had a very enlightening dinner with Mr. Bidwell and the magistrate last night. " He felt no need to reveal that he had for the most part invited himself to dinner at the mansion, and had taken his sister and nephew there with him. While he had feasted at the banquet table, his relatives had been seated at the smaller table in the kitchen where Mrs. Nettles ate. " Mr. Bidwell was a genial host, " Jerusalem went on. " He entertained me with the particulars of thy offenses. "

Rachel began to wash her arms. " Thou hast committed murders and vile wickedness, " the preacher hissed. " So vile it dost take mine breath away. "

Something about Jerusalem's voice made Matthew speak up. " You should remove yourself from here. You're neither needed nor wanted. "

" Of that I am sure. As I said, clerk, I have no business with thee, but take care lest thy haughty demeanor draw down misery. " Jerusalem dismissed Matthew with a slight lifting of his pointed chin. " Witch Howarth? " he implored. " Thy motives intrigue me. Wouldst thou tell me why the Devil hast embraced thee so fondly? "

" You're half crazed, " Rachel said, without looking at him. " And the other half is a raving lunatic. "

" I shouldn't think thee would fall to the ground and kiss my boots. But at least we have moved beyond the silence of a stone. Let me pose this question, Witch Howarth: dost thou not know the power I possess? "

" Power to do what? Make an ass of yourself! "

" No, " he replied calmly. " The power to free thee from thy prison. "

" What? And walk me to the stake? "

" The power, " he said, " to banish Satan from thy soul, and therefore save thee from the stake. "

" You're mistaking your power with that belonging to Magistrate Woodward, " Matthew said.

Jerusalem ignored him. " I will tell thee a tale, " he offered to Rachel. " Two years ago, in a new settlement in the Maryland colony, a young widow by the name of Eleanor Peyton found herself in the same predicament as thee. Cast into a cage, she was, on accusation of witchcraft and the murder of her neighbor's wife. The magistrate who heard her case was a right true man of God, and breached no affronts by the Devil. He sentenced Madam Peyton to be hanged by the neck. But on the night before her gallows dance, Madam Peyton confessed her sins and witchcraft to me. She sank to her knees, spoke the Lord's Prayer in a reverent voice, and begged me to oust Satan from her soul. The Evil One caused her breasts to swell and her private parts to water, and these afflictions I attacked by the laying on of hands. Her salvation, though, did not come easily. That night it was a tremendous battle. The both of us struggled mightily, until we were drenched in sweat and gasping for God's air. At last, just before the dawn, she threw her head back and released a scream, and I knew it was the sound of Satan tearing loose from the depths of her innermost being. " He closed his eyes; a slight smile played across his mouth, and Matthew imagined he must be hearing that scream.

When Jerusalem's eyes opened once more, some trick of the candlelight gave them a reddish glint. " At first light, " he said to Rachel, " I pronounced Madam Peyton freed of the Devil's claws, and therefore petitioned the magistrate that he should hear her confession before the torches were flamed. I said I would stand as a witness for any woman who embraced Christianity and engulfed it with such passion. The end result was that Madam Peyton was banished from the town, yet she became a crusader for God and travelled with me for some months. " He paused, his head cocked to one side. " Art thou listening to my tale, Witch Howarth? "

" I think your tale exposes you, " Rachel answered.

" As a man who careth deeply for the right ways of women, yes. Thy breed is so easily led astray, by all manner of evil. And thus thy breed leadeth men astray as well, and woe be to the tribe of Adam. "

Rachel finished washing and pushed the bucket aside. She lifted her gaze to the preacher. " You seem to know a great deal about evil. "

" I do. Both from without and within. "

" I'm sure you are most interested in the ins and outs, especially concerning my breed. "

" Thy mockery is well aimed, but falls short of the mark, " Jerusalem said. " In my youth—indeed, for most of my life—I myself walked the dark path. I was a thief and blasphemer, I sought the company of doxies and revelled in the sinful pleasures of fornication and sodomy. Indeed, I ruined the souls of many women even as I revelled in their flesh. Oh yes, Witch Howarth, I do know a great deal about evil. "

" You sound prideful of it, preacher. "

" My attraction to such matters was a thing of birth. I have been told by many doxies—and good widows, too—that my member is the largest they have ever seen. Some admitted it took their breath away. "

" What kind of ministry is this? " Matthew asked, his face flushed by Jerusalem's indecent claims. " I think you'd better leave, sir! "

" I shall. " Jerusalem kept staring fixedly at Rachel. " I want thee to know, Witch Howarth, that my gift of persuasion is undiminished. If thou desireth, I may do the same for thee that was done for Madam Peyton. She now lives a virtuous life in Virginia, all the sin having been squeezed from her bosom. Such release may be given to thee, as well, if thou but sayeth the word. "

" And I would be spared from the stake? "

" Without a doubt. "

" After which you would recommend that I be banished from my land and home, and you would offer me a place alongside yourself? "

" Yes. "

" I am not a witch, " Rachel said forcefully. " I do not follow a dark master now, and I will not follow a dark master in the future. My word to you is: no. "

Jerusalem smiled. The lantern's light glinted off his teeth. " The magistrate has yet to pass sentence on thee, of course. Perhaps thou hast hopes to sway the man through this boy? " He motioned with a nod toward Matthew. Rachel just glowered at him. " Well, thou dost have some time to think upon it. I would not linger too long, though, as I expect the timber will be laid for thy fire within a few days. Wouldst be a terrible pity for thee to burn, being so young and so badly in need of a Christian sword. "

He'd no sooner finished his last word when the door opened and Hannibal Green entered carrying a lantern and a steaming bucket full of the biscuit-and-eggs mush that would be their breakfast. Green stopped in his tracks when he saw the preacher. Exodus Jerusalem had made a strong impression on him yesterday afternoon. " Sir? " he said, rather meekly. " No visitors are allowed here unless Mr. Bidwell approves it. That's his rule. "

" The Lord God approves it, " Jerusalem said, and offered a warm smile to the giant gaol-keeper. " But as I do not wish to violate the earthly rules of Mr. Bidwell, I shall immediately withdraw. "

" Thank you, sir. "

On his way out, Jerusalem placed a hand upon Green's shoulder. " Thou hast done a fine job guarding the witch. A man cannot be too careful in dealing with the likes of her. "

" Yes sir, I know that. And I thank you for the 'preciation. "

" A thankless task, I'm sure. Thou art a good Christian fellow, I can tell. " He started to move on, then paused. " Oh. I am speaking this night at seven o'clock on the subject of the witch, if thou shouldst care to attend. It shall be the first of a series of sermons. Dost thou know where I am camped? On Industry Street? "

" Yes sir. "

" If thou wouldst serve God, please inform your brother and sister citizens of the time. Also, please let it be known that I live from hand to mouth on the blessings of Christ and what may find its way into my offering basket. Wouldst thou serve God in such a way? "

" Yes sir, " Green said. " I would. I mean... I will. "

Jerusalem turned his face toward Rachel once more. " Time is short for repentance, Witch Howarth. But redemption may still be thine, if thou dost desireth it. " He touched a finger to the brim of his tricorn, and then made his departure.

seventeen

MATTHEW WAS SHOCKED at his first sight of the magistrate, just before two o'clock. Woodward, who entered the gaol supported between Hannibal Green and Nicholas Paine, wore a long gray overcoat and a rust-colored scarf wrapped about his throat. His face—which glistened with sweat and was a few shades lighter than his coat—was cast downward, mindful of his walking. He took feeble steps, as if he'd aged twenty years since Matthew had seen him yesterday afternoon.

When Green had brought the midday meal, he'd explained to Matthew that the course of the trial had been delayed because the magistrate had fallen very ill during the night, but what he heard from Paine was that Elias Garrick was scheduled to appear at two o'clock. Therefore Matthew had expected to see the magistrate under the weather, but not become a near invalid. He realized at once that Woodward should be in bed—or possibly even at Dr. Shields's infirmary.

" What are you bringing him in here for? " Matthew protested, standing at the bars. " The magistrate's not healthy enough to sit at court today! "

" I'm following Mr. Bidwell's orders, " Paine replied, as he steadied Woodward while Green unlocked the cell. " He said to bring the magistrate here. "

" This is an outrage! The magistrate shouldn't be forced to work when he's hardly strong enough to stand! "

" I see no one forcing him, " Paine answered. Green got the door open and then helped Paine walk Woodward through. A strong, bitter medicinal odor also entered.

" I demand to see Bidwell! " Matthew had almost shouted it, his cheeks reddening as his temper rose. " Bring him here this minute! "

" Hush, " the magistrate whispered. " That hurts my ears. "

" Sir, why did you allow yourself to be brought here? You're in no condition to—"

" The work must be done, " Woodward interrupted. " The sooner the trial is ended. . . the sooner we may leave this wretched town. " He eased himself down into his chair. " Hot tea, " he said to Paine, his face pinched with the effort of speech.

" Yes sir, I'll get you some directly. "

" But not from Mrs. Vaughan, " Woodward said. " I'll drink any tea but hers. "

" Yes sir. "

" Mr. Paine! " Matthew said as he and Green started to leave the cell. " You know the magistrate has no business being here! "

" Matthew, settle yourself, " Woodward cautioned, in his raw whisper. " I may be somewhat ill. . . but I have my responsibilities. You have your own. Be seated and prepare for our witness. " He glanced through the bars into the next cage. " Good afternoon, madam. " Rachel nodded at him from her seat on the bench, her face grim but well composed. Paine and Green left the cell and made their way out of the gaol.

" Sit and prepare, " Woodward repeated to his clerk. " Mr. Garrick will soon be here. "

Matthew knew there was no point in further argument. He put the Bible in front of Woodward, then opened the desk drawer into which he'd placed the box of writing supplies and placed it atop his own desk. He sat down, lifted the boxlid, and removed the quill, inkwell, and paper, after he began to massage his right hand to warm it for the exertion that was to follow. The noise of Woodward's husky, labored breathing was going to be a considerable distraction. In fact, he didn't know how he could concentrate at all today. He said, " Sir, tell me this: how are you going to ask questions of Mr. Garrick when you can hardly speak? "

" Mr. Garrick will do most of the speaking. " Woodward paused, securing a breath. His eyes closed for a few seconds; he felt so weak he feared he might have to lay his head down upon the desk. The pungent fumes of the liniment that even now heated his chest, back, and throat rose around his face and up his swollen nostrils. He opened his eyes, his vision blurred. " I will do my task, " he vowed. " Just do yours. "

In a few minutes Edward Winston entered the gaol with Elias Garrick, who wore a dark brown suit that appeared two sizes too small and bore fresh patches on the elbows and knees. His gray hair had been combed back against his scalp with glistening pomade. Garrick looked fearfully into the cell at Rachel Howarth, prompting Winston to say, " She can't harm you, Elias. Come along. "

Garrick was motioned toward the stool that had been positioned before Woodward's desk. He sat down upon it, his gaunt-cheeked face cast toward the floor. His sinewy hands clasped together, as if in silent supplication.

" You're going to be fine. " Winston placed his hand on Gar-rick's shoulder. " Magistrate, you can understand that Elias is a bit nervous, with the witch in such close proximity. "

" He won't be kept long, " was Woodward's rasped reply.

" Uh. . . well sir, I was wondering, then. " Winston raised his eyebrows. " What time should I bring Violet Adams? "

" Pardon? "

" Violet Adams, " Winston said. " The child. Mr. Bidwell told me to fetch her later this afternoon. What time would be agreeable? "

" One moment! " It was all Matthew could do to keep his seat. " The magistrate's only seeing one witness today! "

" Well. . . Mr. Bidwell seems to think otherwise. On the way to get Elias, I stopped at the Adams house and informed the family that Violet was expected to testify this afternoon. It was Mr. Bidwell's wish that the trial be concluded today. "

" I don't care whose wish it was! Magistrate Woodward is too ill to—"

Woodward suddenly reached our and grasped Matthew's arm, squeezing it to command silence. " Very well, " he whispered. " Bring the child... at four o'clock. "

" I shall. "

Matthew looked incredulously at the magistrate, who paid him no attention.

" Thank you, Mr. Winston, " Woodward said. " You may go. "

" Yes sir. " Winston gave Garrick a reassuring pat on the shoulder and took his leave.

Before Matthew could say anything more, Woodward picked up the Bible and offered it to Garrick. " Hold this. Matthew, swear him to truth. "

Matthew obeyed. When the ritual was done and Matthew reached out to take the Good Book, Garrick pressed it against his chest. " Please? Might I keep a'hold of it? "

" You may, " Woodward answered. " Go ahead and tell your story. "

" You mean what I already done told you? "

" This time for the record. " Woodward motioned toward Matthew, who sat with his quill freshly dipped and poised over the paper.

" Where do you want me to start? "

" From the beginning. "

" All right, then. " Garrick continued to stare at the floor, then licked his lips and said, " Well. . . like I done told you, my land's right next to the Howarth farm. That night I was feelin' poorly, and I waked up to go outside and spew what was makin' me ill. It was silent. Everythin' was silent, like the whole world was afeared to breathe. "

" Sir? " Matthew said to the farmer. " What time would you make this to be? "

" What time? Oh. . . two or three, maybe. I don't recall. " He looked at Woodward. " Want me to go on? " Woodward nodded. " Anyways, I went out. That's when I seen somebody crossin' the Howarth cornfield. Wasn't no stalks that time of year, y'see. I seen this person walkin' in the field, without no lantern. I thought it was awful strange, so I went over the fence, and I followed 'em behind the barn. That's when. . . " He stared at the floor again, a pulse beating at his temple. " That's when I seen the witch naked and on her knees, tendin' to her master. "

" By 'the witch, ' do you mean Rachel Howarth? " Woodward's frail whisper had just about vanished.

" Yes sir. "

Woodward started to ask another question, but now his voice would not respond. He had reached the end of his questioning. He looked at Matthew, his face stricken. " Matthew? " he was able to say. " Ask? "

Matthew realized the magistrate was giving over to him the reins of this interview. He redipped his quill, a dark anger simmering in him that Bidwell had either forced or persuaded the magistrate to imperil his health in such a fashion. But now that the interview had begun, it should be finished. Matthew cleared his throat. " Mr. Garrick, " he said, " what do you mean by 'master'? "

" Well. . . Satan, I reckon. "

" And this figure was wearing exactly what? "

" A black cloak and a cowl, like I done told you. There was gold buttons on the front. I seen 'em shine in the moonlight. "

" You couldn't see this figure's face? "

" No sir, but I seen. . . that thing the witch was suckin' on. That black cock covered with thorns. Couldn't be nobody but Satan hisself, owned somethin' like that.

" And you say Rachel Howarth was completely naked? "

" Yes sir, she was. "

" What were you wearing? "

" Sir? " Garrick frowned.

" Your clothes, " Matthew said. " What were you wearing? " Garrick paused, thinking about it. " Well sir, I had on... I mean to say. I. . . " His frown deepened. " That's might odd, " he said at last. " I can't recall. "

" A coat, I presume? " Matthew prodded. " Since it was cold out? "

Garrick slowly blinked. " A coat, " he said. " Must've had on my coat, but... I don't remember puttin' it on. "

" And shoes? Or boots? "

" Shoes, " he said. " No, wait. My boots. Yes sir, I believe I had on my boots. "

" Did you get a good look at Rachel Howarth's face, there behind the barn? "

" Well. . . not her face, sir, " Garrick admitted. " Just her backside. She was kneelin' away from me. But I seen her hair. And she was a dark-skinned woman. It was her, all right. " He glanced uneasily at the magistrate and then back to Matthew. " It had to be her. It was Daniel's land. "

Matthew nodded, scribing down what Garrick had just said. " Did you spew? " he asked suddenly.

" Sir? "

Matthew lifted his face and stared directly into Garrick's dull eyes. " Did you spew? You left your bed to go outside for that purpose. Did you do so? "

Again, Garrick had to think about it. " I. . . don't recall if I did, " he said. " No, I think I seen that figure crossin' the Howarth cornfield, and I. . . must've forgot 'bout feelin' poorly. "

" Let's go back a bit, please, " Matthew instructed. " What time had you gone to bed that night? "

" Usual time. 'Bout half past eight, I reckon. "

" Both you and your wife went to bed at the same time? "

" Thereabouts, yes sir. "

" Were you feeling poorly when you went to bed? "

" No sir. I don't think I was. " He licked his lips again, a nervous gesture. " Pardon me for askin', but. . . what's all this got to do with the witch? "

Matthew looked at the magistrate. Woodward's chin had drooped, but his eyes were open and he gave no sign of wishing to interfere—even if that were possible—with Matthew's line of inquiry. Matthew returned his attention to Garrick. " I'm trying to clear up a point of confusion I have, " he explained. " So you did not go to bed feeling ill, but you awakened perhaps six hours later sick to your stomach? "

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