Part 27 (2/2)

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 rea.s.suring 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 fas.h.i.+on. 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 b.u.t.tons on the front. I seen 'em s.h.i.+ne 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 c.o.c.k covered with thorns. Couldn't be n.o.body but Satan hisself, owned somethin' like that.

”And you say Rachel Howarth was completely naked?”

”Yes sir, she was.”

”What were you were you wearing?” 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? spew? You left your bed to go outside for that purpose. Did you do so?” 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 wis.h.i.+ng 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?”

”Yes sir.”

”You got out of bed carefully, so as not to awaken your wife?”

”Yes sir, that's right.”

”And then?”

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