Part 28 (2/2)
”When you say he let you go, do you mean he held you spellbound?”
”Yes sir, I believe he did. I wanted to run, but I couldn't move.”
”Did he release you with a word or a gesture?”
Again, Garrick frowned as he tried to a.s.semble his thoughts. ”I can't say. All I know is, he let me go.”
”And your wife was still sleeping when you returned to bed?”
”Yes sir, she was. She never waked up at all. I closed my eyes tight as I could, and next thing I knew I heard the c.o.c.k crow and it was mornin'.”
Matthew's eyes narrowed. ”You mean after that experience you had no trouble falling asleep?”
”I don't know if I did or not. The c.o.c.k crowed, and I waked up.”
Matthew glanced quickly at the magistrate before he posed the following question: ”Mr. Garrick, sir, is it possible-just possible- possible- that you were never awake at all?” that you were never awake at all?”
”I don't know what you mean, sir.”
”I'm asking if what you thought was real may have been a dream. Is there any possibility of that?”
”No sir!” Garrick clutched the Bible tightly once more. ”It all happened like I said! I woke up with stomach trouble and had to spew, and I went outside! I seen that devil and the witch there behind that barn sure as I'm lookin' at you! I swear before the Lord G.o.d I did!”
Matthew said quietly, ”There's no need for such swearing. You hold the Bible and you've already vowed your story is the truth. You are are a G.o.d-fearing man, aren't you?” a G.o.d-fearing man, aren't you?”
”Yes sir, I am. If I was lyin' to you, I'd be struck dead in an instant!”
”I'm sure you believe so. I have only one last question for you, and then-with the magistrate's approval, of course-you may go. My question is: how many b.u.t.tons are on the coat you wore that night?”
”Sir?” Garrick tilted his head to one side, as if his ears hadn't quite caught the inquiry. Garrick tilted his head to one side, as if his ears hadn't quite caught the inquiry.
”You seem to be a highly observant individual,” Matthew said. ”Can you tell me how many b.u.t.tons adorn the coat you put on before you went outside to spew?”
”Well... like I said, I don't recall puttin' my coat on.”
”But you must know how many b.u.t.tons it has. I presume you wear it quite a lot in cold weather. How many? Four? Five? Six, perhaps?”
”Five,” Garrick answered. ”No... I think one of 'em broke off. It must be four.”
”Thank you,” Matthew said, and he put his quill aside. ”Magistrate, I would suggest that Mr. Garrick be freed to go home.”
”Are you sure?” sure?” Woodward whispered, not without some sarcasm. Woodward whispered, not without some sarcasm.
”I'm sure Mr. Garrick has told us the truth, as far as he knows the truth to be. I don't think there's any use in keeping him here.”
Woodward took a drink of tea and put the cup aside. ”Good day,” he told the farmer. ”The court thanks you.”
”I'm free to go, then?” Garrick stood up. He reluctantly relinquished his grip on the Bible and laid it back before the magistrate. ”May I be bold to say, sir... I hope I've helped send that witch to the fire. Reverend Grove was a right good man, and what I knew of Daniel he was a Christian too. But when Satan slips into a town, there ain't nothin' that follows but wickedness and tears.”
”Mr. Garrick?” Matthew said as the man started to leave the cell. ”In your opinion, was it Rachel Howarth or Satan who committed those murders?”
”Had to be Satan, I'd say. I seen Grove's body laid out in the church, and I seen Daniel's a'layin' in the field. A throat cut like those were... couldn't been a woman's hand that done it.”
”In your opinion, as a G.o.d-fearing soul, would you believe that Satan could freely enter a church and murder a man of the Lord?”
”I would never have thought it. But it happened, didn't it?”
”Thank you,” Matthew said. ”You may go.”
As soon as Garrick left the gaol Rachel said, ”You understand it now, don't you? He was dreaming the whole thing!”
”That is a distinct possibility.” Matthew looked at the magistrate, who was stroking his unshaven chin with his fingers. ”Would you agree, sir?”
Woodward took his time in offering a reply It seemed to him that Matthew was awfully quick in his attempts to deflect Garrick's testimony The boy was very intelligent, yes; but it appeared to Woodward that Matthew was sharper and quicker now that he'd ever seen him to be. Of course, never before had Matthew been put into the position of commanding an interrogation, and perhaps his abilities had simply risen to the challenge, but... there was something a bit frightening in his desire to destroy Garrick's Bible-sworn statements.
It was a fervor, Woodward decided, that bore careful watching. He sipped the bitter tea and whispered, ”This court is not yet adjourned. Let us keep our opinions in rein.”
”It seems to me, sir,” Matthew plowed on, ”that Mr. Garrick's testimony bears all the signs of being a dream. Some things he can recall quite vividly, while others-things he ought to be able to know-are lost to his memory.”
”Though my voice is weak,” Woodward said, ”my ears are still in order. I heard exactly what you did.”
”Yes, sir.” Matthew decided he should retreat on this subject. ”Pardon my manners.”
”Pardon accepted. Now be quiet.” Matthew took the time to clean his quill. Woodward poured himself a fresh cup and Rachel paced back and forth in her cage.
Nicholas Paine returned carrying a bundle wrapped with white cloth. Instantly Rachel stopped her pacing and came to the bars to watch. Paine placed the bundle on the desk before Woodward and started to open the cloth.
”A moment,” Matthew said. ”Was that how you originally found the objects?”
”The cloth is original, yes.”
”It was not bound up?”
”It was just as you see it. And here are the poppets, just as they were.” He opened the cloth and there were four small figures formed of straw, sticks, and what appeared to be red clay. The poppets were human-shaped, but bore no attempt at facial features; the red clay of their heads was smooth and unmarked. Two of the figures, however, had thin black ribbons tied around the sticks that would represent the human throat. On closer inspection, Woodward saw that the stick-throats had been gashed with a blade.
”I a.s.sume those two were meant to be Reverend Grove and Daniel Howarth,” Paine said. ”The others must have been victims of enchantment, or maybe people who would've been murdered had we not captured the witch.” Rachel made a sound of disgust, but was wise enough to hold her tongue.
”You can deny it all you please!” Paine turned toward her. ”But I myself found these under a floorboard in your kitchen, madam! Under the very boards that your husband walked upon! Why did you murder him? Because he found you doing witchcraft? Or did he catch you servicing your master?”
”If they were hidden in my house, someone else put them there!” Rachel replied, with considerable heat. ”Maybe you you did! Maybe you murdered my husband, too!” did! Maybe you murdered my husband, too!”
”I'm sure he had nothing I wanted!”
”But he did!” she said. ”He had me.” me.”
Paine's face froze with the last vestige of a mocking smile on his mouth.
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