The rest of the evening, and the rest of Alice’s travail, were uneventful. I allowed Martha to bring the child into the world, and she acquitted herself perfectly. Custom said that she would remain my deputy for several years more, but I could not help marveling at how much she had learned in the time she’d been in my service.
It was a few hours after midnight when Martha and I donned our cloaks and started for home. As Jane had promised, Elizabeth was safe in her bed, breathing softly, deep beneath layers of blankets. I kissed her head and retired to my chamber in hope of a few hours of rest before the day would begin.
I was pulled from a deep and blessedly dreamless sleep by the distant sound of pounding on my door. I heard the front door slam before shouts of anger and terror pulled me fully awake. Still in my shift, I hurled myself from my bed and down the stairs to see what was the matter.
To my surprise, Samuel Short, the dwarf-jailor from the Castle, stood in the entry hall. Martha held him tightly, apparently trying to keep him from charging up the stairs toward me. Samuel looked up. The anguish in his face turned my blood cold. Oh, God, I thought. The child they took for witchcraft was Tree.
Chapter 18
My knees buckled, and I felt myself sinking to the floor. Samuel tore free from Martha’s grasp and crossed the hall toward me. He looked into my eyes, his face awash in anger, grief, and despair.
“Tell me this isn’t your doing,” he begged. “They have taken Tree as a witch and your nephew signed the warrant. Tell me this is not because of you.”
I felt my mouth working in vain to find a response adequate to his accusation. What could I say?
“I don’t know,” I croaked at last.
Samuel stared at me. He did not believe my words any more than I did.
“Yes,” I said at last. “Joseph threatened me and all those around me. I feared for Elizabeth, since she is the closest to me. I never thought he would do such a thing to Tree.”
Tears streamed from Samuel’s eyes. “Then you must save him, my lady. You love him, and you must save him.” Samuel did not need to say that if Tree died in prison or on the gallows, his blood would stain my hands forever. I knew that truth in my bones.
I nodded. “I will find a way.” What else could I have said?
“Where did they take him?” Martha asked. “It was Ouse Bridge gaol wasn’t it?” Her blue eyes flashed, and I glimpsed a mercilessness that reminded me of nobody so much as Rebecca Hooke. Here was a woman who would kill when justice demanded it, the law be damned. I took a breath and swore that she would not face the coming storm by herself.
“Yes, Ouse Bridge,” Samuel replied miserably. “They said I could visit him there before the trial.”
“That is where they have Will,” Martha said.
“Aye,” I said. “Arresting Tree and taking him to Ouse Bridge gaol is of a piece with moving Will there. Joseph is no fool. He suspects we tried to help Will escape and he is taking every precaution. No doubt he has his own men guarding the gaol. We’ll have the devil’s own time freeing them.”
“But you will free them, won’t you?” Samuel asked. “Perhaps if you put things right with Mr. Hodgson he’ll relent and send Tree home to me.”
“We will try,” I replied. “You go to the Castle and gather food and blankets for Tree. If there is anything you lack, send a boy to me and I will supply it.”
Samuel wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. He seemed grateful to have something to do that might help. I gave him a handful of coins for buying clothes and bribing guards, and he hurried off.
“Joseph is in no mood to make peace,” Martha said.
“I know,” I replied. “He would hang Tree even if we offered him ten thousand worlds. Tree’s arrest is meant as a warning that he would do the same to Elizabeth. It is supposed to frighten me into submission.”
“How are we going to get them out?”
This was the question that occupied us for the rest of the morning. It did not take us long to light upon the best solution, but I was reluctant to choose that path and insisted we consider other means. During dinner, I gazed at Elizabeth as she chattered on about a game of checkstones that she and Sugar had played earlier in the day. Even as I laughed I could not help thinking that if she told such a story to a witch-hunter he would see her hanged. After we’d eaten, Elizabeth nestled into my lap and we worked for a time on her letters. I sent her off to wash her hands and called for Martha.
“You’ve decided to go to Helen Wright, haven’t you?” she asked.
“We have no other choice,” I said. “We’ll see her this afternoon.”