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And something equally terrible could happen to Kirkwell if he were discovered.

I shivered. The world was a fearful place when people could be walled up and left to die and men like Titus Oates could bring death and misery to thousands of people.

Kirk well was waiting eagerly to greet me.

He put his arms round me and stroked my face, as though to assure himself that I was real.

"Oh, Kate, little Kate ... they shouldn't have let you come."

"Of course I came. Christobel, Luke and James ... they come when they can."

"You are only a little girl. Oh, Kate," he said, "can you believe this? Here I am, running away. Why did I not stop and face that devil?"

"Because it would be foolish of you to do so."

"I did not kill that man."

"That makes no difference if Titus Oates says you did, and he could. We have to face that. Kirk well. He does not hesitate to lie. Oh, Kirkwell, you will be safe here. Nobody comes here."

He put out a rug over the broken tiles of the floor, and we sat on it, our backs to the brick wall, which was covered with lichen in places.

"I have good friends. My sister ... you, and the others. What is happening?"

"The men are here, as you know."

"Yes, they are questioning people. They are asking where I am.

"It was good that you left before it was known that they were on the way. No one can say that you have left because of them."

"But they are asking about me. They have doubtless decided that they are taking me as their victim."

"We are not going to allow that."

"Oh, Kate, my stalwart protector! I cannot tell you what it means to me to see you here. It was due to you, was it not, that I am here?"

"It was due to my father."

"Yes, it seems to me that he too is my friend." He put his arm about me. "We have become very special friends, have we not, Kate?"

"Yes, we have.''

"From the first time I saw you, there was something about you that made you different from other people."

"Was there? They say I am old for my years."

"That may be so. Kate, grow up quickly, will you?"

"I suppose I am subject to time, like everyone else."

He kissed me lightly on the tip of my nose.

"It is strange here, is it not? Do you know the story? Those of us whose families have always lived in the neighborhood are familiar with it. It happened in this tower. I have not thought of it for years, but I remember it now as I he here, particularly at night, when I hear the sounds of all the wild creatures who live around here. I hear a fox now and then ... creatures creeping through the undergrowth ... the cries of birds. They sound strange in the night. One grows a little fanciful at night in such a place."

"Do you think of that poor girl who is said to have been walled up here?"

"Sometimes ... and it makes me think of what would happen to me if Oates's men were to discover that I am here. Sometimes I think I hear them making their way through the undergrowth ... but it is always some animal. I suppose I am expecting them to come."

"They will not! They will not! We are so careful; and they cannot say that you went away to escape them, because people here believe that you went before you knew they were com-mg.

"And you, little Kate, what if they knew you were visiting me ... bringing me food?"

"They will not know."

"You are taking a risk. I shall never forget you took this risk for me, Kate."

"And so are James and Christobel and the others."

"I shall remember you more, Kate."

"Soon they will go away. Then you will return from the North, your business settled, and life will go back to what it was before all this started."

"Oh, Kate, will it ever be the same again? I lie here and think of my father, and I think of their coming here. They would find me guilty, not only because I hid myself, but because they were determined to. I shall never really be free while Titus Oates lives, Kate."

"Kirk we 11. it is not like you to be so despairing."

"No. Blame this place. It seems so remote from the world."

"That is why it is such a good hiding place. They will never find you here."

"How long shall I be a prisoner here?"

"Until the men have gone."

"Kate, I want you to know that I love you dearly."

"Oh. Kirk well. I love you too. I love you and Christobel. She has been like a sister to me."

"I am glad." he said. "If I come through this ... and when you have grown up a little ..."

"Yes, Kirk well, what then?"

"Then you and I will talk more of this."

After I had left him I thought of what he had said. I believed  he was telling me that he loved me. I might have been young, but, as they always said, I was advanced for my years. I knew that he v^-as telling me that one day, if we continued to feel as we did now, we might be married.

I must have shown that I cared for him. My father had seen it.

Was it for this reason that he had mentioned the Devil's Tower? Was it done for me?

Tension was growing. More people were questioned and no one felt safe. I had a strong feeling that if Kirkwell had been here he would have been accused, however completely he could have proved his innocence. And if they had determined to make him their scapegoat and did not go, for how long could he stay in the tower?

Each day either Christobel, James or myself would go to the Devil's Tower with provisions: we grew increasingly afraid that someone would notice us.

Oates's men were becoming impatient, and with each passing day the danger grew closer. Everyone in the place lived in fear that in desperation they would select someone—anyone: it would not matter to them, as long as they had their culprit.

The matter was resolved in an unexpected manner.

Farmer Blake, of Fifty Acres Farm, was discovered by his ploughman in one of his barns. He had hanged himself from the rafters and people were talking of nothing else.

The night before he died, he had gone to the rector and made a confession. The rector was so startled by these revelations that he thought it his duty to write them down so that he could assure himself that he had heard them correctly and could then consider what action he should take.

Farmer Blake, it appeared, had, one year before, married Betty Drew, the daughter of one of his cowmen. Betty was a handsome, plump young woman and she had a merry way with her, whereas Farmer Blake's wife had been an invalid confined to her bed for the previous five years. Farmer Blake confessed that he had lusted after Betty while his wife still lived and had married her in indecent haste three months after his wife's death, which was doubtless why the Lord had seen fit to punish him.

One day, when he had had to be away on business at Nether Stowey, he had told Betty that he would be home at about six of the clock, and added: "You can never be sure, and I reckon I'll be lucky if I am back by seven."

However, Farmer Blake's business was concluded with far more speed than he had anticipated, with the result that by five o'clock he was on his way home to the farmhouse, thinking to give Betty a pleasant surprise. Passing along to the farmhouse, he had heard whispering voices coming from one of the barns. He thought it was some children playing there, and that was something he would not have. He opened the door and went in. He could not believe what he saw. There was Betty, and with her Isaac Napp, together caught in the act of adultery.

So lost in their sin were they that they were unaware that Farmer Blake had opened the door of the barn. He was amazed that his wife could behave so, and with this man who had professed to be in the service of the Lord, purging the world of Catholicism. Farmer Blake thought his legs would not carry him, but they did, out of the barn where he stood for a while, bewildered, unable to grasp the fact that his new wife was a wanton, and not what he had blindly supposed her to be.