law.' Again, an able-tongued lie. 'He's waiting for her.' Matthew motioned toward Bidwell's mansion.
Green scowled, but he took the bait. He emerged from his house, wearing a long gray nightshirt. He looked in the direction of the mansion and saw the light in the upstairs window.
'He would have preferred to go to the gaol, but he's too ill, ' Matthew explained. 'Therefore I'm to accompany you to the gaol to remove the prisoner, and from there we shall escort her to the magistrate.'
Green was obviously dismayed at this request, but since he was the gaol-keeper and this was official business he could not refuse. 'All right, then, ' he said. 'Give me a minute to dress.'
'A question for you, please, ' Matthew said before Green could enter the house again. 'Can you tell me if the watchtowers are manned tonight?'
Green snorted. 'Would you sit up there tonight, alone, so somethin' might swoop in and get you like Linch was got? Every man, woman and child in Fount Royal—left in Fount Royal, I mean to say—are huddled in their houses behind latched doors and closed shutters!'
'I thought as much, ' Matthew said. 'It's a shame, then, that you should have to leave your wife and child alone. Undefended, I mean. But then again, it is an official request.'
Green looked stricken. He rumbled, 'Yes, it is. So there's no use jawin' about it.'
'Well... I might make a suggestion, ' Matthew offered. 'This is a very precarious time, I know. Therefore you might give me the key, and I'll take Madam Howarth to the magistrate. She'll probably not need to be returned to her cell before the execution hour. Of course, I wouldn't care to face her without a pistol or sword. Do you have either?'
Green stared him in the face. 'Hold a minute, ' he said. 'I've heard talk you were sweet on the witch.'
'You have? Well... yes, it was true. Was true. She blinded me to her true nature while I was imprisoned with her. But I've since realized—with the magistrate's help—the depth of her powers.'
'There are some who say you might be turned to a demon, ' Green said. 'Lucretia Vaughan spoke such at the reverend's camp on the Sabbath.'
'Oh... did she?' That damned woman!
'Yes, and that you might be in league with the witch. And Reverend Jerusalem said he knew you to be desirous of her body.'
It was very difficult for Matthew to maintain a calm expres-sion, when inside he was raging. 'Mr. Green, ' he said, 'it was I who delivered the execution decree to the witch. If I were truly a demon, I would have entranced the magistrate to prevent him from finding her guilty. I had every opportunity to do so.'
'The reverend said it could'a been you made Woodward sick, hopin' he'd die 'fore he could speak the decree.'
'Was I the central subject of the reverend's rantings? If so, I should at least ask for a percentage of the coin he made off my name!'
'The central subject was the Devil, ' Green said. 'And how we're to get out of this town still wearin' our skins.'
'After the reverend is done, you'll still have your skins, but your wallets will be missing.' He was wandering from the point of his mission, and doing himself no good. 'But please... there is the magistrate's request to consider. As I said, if you'll give me the key, I might—'
'No, ' Green interrupted. 'Much as I despise to leave my home, the prisoner's my charge, and no hand shall unlock her cage but my own. Then I'll escort the both of you to the magistrate.'
'Well... Mr. Green... I think that, in light of the reason to stay and defend your—' But Matthew was left talking to the air, as the giant gaol-keeper turned and entered his house.
His plan, tenuous at best, had already begun unravelling. Obviously Green was wary of Matthew's intentions. Also, the red-bearded monolith was faithful to duty even to the point of leaving his wife and child on this Satan- haunted eve. The man was to be commended, if Matthew wasn't so busy cursing him.
In a few moments Green emerged again, wearing his nightshirt over his breeches and heavy-soled boots on his feet. Around his neck was the leather cord and two keys. He carried a lantern in his left hand and his right paw brandished, to Matthew's great discomfort, a sword that might be used to behead an ox. 'Remember, ' he said to his wife, 'keep this door latched! And if anyone even tries to get in, let out the loudest holler your lungs ever birthed!' He closed the door, she latched it, and he said to Matthew, 'All right, off with you! You walk ahead!'
It was time, Matthew thought, for his second plan.
The only problem was that there was no second plan. He led Green toward the gaol. He didn't look but, from the way the flesh on the back of his neck crawled, he assumed Green kept the sword's point aimed at it. The barking of a dog further up on Harmony Street caused a second canine to reply from Industry, which Matthew knew would be no soothing melody to Green's nerves.
'Why wasn't I told about this?' Green asked, as they approached the gaol. 'If it is such a necessary part of the law. Couldn't it have been done in daylight?'
'The law states the accused in a witchcraft trial shall be afforded the opportunity for confession no more than six hours and no less than two hours before execution. It is called the law of... um... confessiato.' If Jerusalem could get away with his rite of sanctimonity, Matthew figured he might employ a similar stratagem. 'Usually the magistrate would visit the accused's cell in the company of a clergyman, but in this case it is impossible.'
'Yes, that makes sense, ' Green admitted. 'But still... why wasn't I told to expect it?'
'Mr. Bidwell was supposed to inform you. Didn't he?'
'No. He's been ill.'
'Well, ' Matthew said with a shrug, 'there you have it.'
They entered the gaol, Matthew still leading. Rachel spoke to the lights instead of the persons carrying them, her voice wan and resigned to her fate. 'Is it time?'
'Almost, madam, ' Matthew said stiffly. 'The magistrate wishes to see you, to allow you opportunity for confession.'
'For confession?' She stood up. 'Matthew, what's this about?'
'I suggest you be silent, witch, for your own good. Mr. Green, open the cell.' He stepped aside, feverishly trying to think of what he was going to do when the key had turned.
'You step over there, away from me, ' Green instructed, and Matthew did.
Rachel came to the bars, her face and hair dirty, her amber eyes piercing him. 'I asked you a question. What is this about?'
'It is about your life after you leave this place, witch. Your af-tetlife, in a faraway realm. Now please hold your tongue.'
Green slid the key into its lock, turned it, and opened the cage's door. 'All right. Come out.' Rachel hesitated, gripping the bats. 'It's the law of confessiassho! Come on, the magistrate's waitin'!'
Matthew's mind was racing. He saw the two buckets in Rachel's cell, one for drinking water and the other for bodily functions. Well, it wasn't much but it was all he could think of. 'By God!' he said, 'I think the witch wants to defy us, Mr. Green! I think she refuses to come out!' He stabbed an urgent finger at her, motioning toward the rear of the cell. 'Will you come out, witch, or shall we drag you?'
'I don't...'
'By God, Mr. Green! She's defying the magistrate, even at this final hour! Will you come out, or will you make things difficult?' He added the emphasis on the last three words, and he saw that Rachel was still puzzled but she'd realized what he wanted her to do. She retreated from the bars, stopping only when her back met the wall.
'Matthew?' she said. 'What game is this?'
'A game you will regret, madam! And don't think speaking so familiarly to me shall prevent Mr. Green from going in there and dragging you out! Mr. Green, have at it!'
Green didn't budge. He leaned on his sword. 'I ain't goin' in there and risk gettin' my eyeballs scratched out. Or worse. You want her so bloody bad, you go get her.'
Matthew felt the wind leave his sails. This was becoming a farce worthy of a drunken playwright's most fevered scribblings. 'Very well then, sir.' He clenched his teeth and held out his hand. 'Your sword, please?'
Green's eyes narrowed. 'I'll go in and drag her out, ' Matthew pressed on, 'but you don't expect me to enter a tiger's den without a weapon, do you? Where's your Christian mercy?'
Green said nothing, and did not move. 'Matthew?' Rachel said. 'What's this—'
'Hush, witch!' Matthew answered, his gaze locked with the giant's.
