“How long is it since she left?”
“She hasn’t left. She was leaving when the change took place. She was stopped. They was to have taken her and locked her in one of the dungeons of the castle, but Foster would not have her said it would ill-wish him in any fight with the Spanish so she is in the cellar under the Gate Tower. It was the farthest away they could put her overnight for safety.”
We all stood. “Oh, Lord Jesus Christ,” began Parson Merther, “almighty and most merciful Saviour, we the most sinful, the most errant of Thy creatures, do humbly beseech Thee…”
When all were seated I said: “Why overnight? What will they do with her?”
Belemus shrugged. “That will depend on your father, no doubt. He’s not likely to be kindly disposed.”
“But when is he back? Perhaps not for “
“Tomorrow. I thought you knew, witless. John Michell has had word that he lay last night with George Grenville at Penheale and should be home by this time tomorrow.”
Supper was customarily noisy but the hall was quiet that night, more so than at the height of the fever. Miss Mary Killigrew did not appear at all and Mr Knyvett was drunk. Afterwards, while Parson Merther waited impatiently for me to follow the others, I spoke to Mistress Wolverstone.
“What?” she said. “What? Well, your stepmother is asleep now. She breathes peaceably; pray God when she wakes she will be in her right mind and not overlooked. What? Well, I know not what evil came from her, but evil came from somewhere, did it not? She is best shut up, poor creature. All such creatures are best shut up, lest they do more harm than good.”
“Come, Maugan,” Parson Merther said. “The knowledge of good and evil comes late to some people. You are such a one. With prayer and due humility towards your elders of which, alas, I see few signs as yet you may come to a full understanding. You must thank God that you are not alone to judge for yourself.”
For an hour I sat with the other children translating Virgil’s Georg~cs. When at last I got into bed beside John I lay for a long time with my head propped up so that through the undrawn bed curtains I could see the narrow oblong of the window, greyer than the rest of the room. It was still raining and blowing hard, but from the southwest, so that in this room you could only hear the rumble of the wind in the distance as it leaned on the house over the shoulder of the hill.
Presently John, whom I had thought asleep, said: “Do you think Mama will die?”
“Not now,” I said.
“Do you think the witch will be burnt?”
“I don’t know.”
“I heard Ink-horn say he knows of tests so that you can tell if she has sold herself to the Devil. What sort of tests?”
“If you stick pins in her and she does not bleed,- I said; “if you throw her in the river and she floats; if you tie her thumbs and her toes crosswise and she sheds no tears; if you shave her head …”
“But is that not like torture?”
“If she’s a witch it will drive out Satan from her and make her confess .. .”
“And what if she confesses?”
“I suppose they will hang her.” -
“What do you hope they will do to her?”
“It’s for them to decide.”
Soon after that we must both have fallen asleep, but I did not sleep long and wakened in utter terror, the way one can from a dream, with the belief that I was in a coffin and the lid was coming down. I sat up in bed and could see no light and breathe no air. The feel of the bed curtains only convinced me it was a shroud. I crawled to the foot of the bed and nearly fell out, then groped towards the window. It was not until I heard the familiar sound of water gurgling off the roof and saw a single light of a fishing boat that it came to me I was in my own room, looking from my own window and that John still slept undisturbed in the darkness.
It took minutes standing there by the window while the dream fell slowly away like slime dripping off after crawling out of a bog. It took more minutes standing there before I began to pull on my breeches and hose and jerkin and a pair of shoes …
The passage outside was no lighter than the bedroom; from the opposite room came Parson Merther’s snores. In the great hall a few gaunt shadows lurked, fathered by a flickering log; dogs stirred and grumbled. I picked up the poker that lay on the andiron in the hearth.
I had to stand on a chair to unfasten the iron bolt, and when the door came open a gust of damp air wafted in from outside. I did not shut the door again but left it swinging, and I could hear the stirring of the rushes on the floor as the wind moved over them.
It was lighter out here, and the warm night cloyed. There was only one light to be seen in the whole house, where Kate Penruddock sat up with Mrs Killigrew.
The door leading to the cellar of the Gate Tower was in the right hand wall and was not locked. I went down the ten steps and came to the cellar door and knocked. There was at once a stirring inside.
“Who is it?”
“… Maugan Killigrew.”
“Ah, Maugan, I looked for you today when I came. Were you hiding from me?”, I looked at the door. Last year a man had been put there, a beggar, who was not worth a place in the castle, and the same stout padlock had been used then as now.
“Or did you suggest they should send for me in the first place? “
“No! “
“Ah, well, it is good to have a friend. Have you water? I’m thirsty.”
I slid the end of the poker through the padlock and began to pull.
I heard her laugh. “It’s hard to be an apothecary if you be a woman. And it is hard to do good by savin’ one life because then you are rough treated because you did not save two.”
The poker slipped and I slipped with it, so that the metal clanged.
“You trying to release me? Well, that’s a kindly act, and I exempt you from all the curses I’ve been mutterin’ these past hours. Ignorance is a sorry thing, my dear.”
I was sweating so that my hands could hardly grip, as if I was still part of a nightmare. I felt I wasn’t doing this just because I wanted to but because she was making me. She had awakened me in my room and brought me here.
Although I was so thin I was always very strong, even in those days, and I could feel the poker beginning to bend. I stopped and then noticed that while the padlock was not giving, the staples let into the wall were. Another heave and the staples gave way and the door swung free.
She came out. Her face was an unnatural white in the darkness.
“You’re a true friend, Maugan Killigrew.” . “I had to come.”
“That’s how it should be.”
I could not tell whether her vivid smile was loving or wolfish.
I said: “You must not go home across the fields. The hounds would be on you.”
“I have no fear of dogs.”
“They would raise the house. It’s safer to go through this gate if we can get it unbarred.”
“And then?”
“This leads direct to the jetty. Behind the jetty on the stones you’ll find a small boat. You can row round the point and beach it down the river below our land.”
“How far is it round the point? I could swim.”
I thought of witches who never sank. “Take the boat. There will be a strong outgoing current.”
“You’ll not come with me to bring the boat back?”
“It will be found in the morning. I have left all the doors open behind me.”
“Come here, Maugan. You’re not afraid of me?”