Wide is the Water Read online

  ‘Miss! Miss! Excuse me, Miss?’ The anxious voice roused her from deep sleep, and she looked blearily across the table at the tall, gangling boy, who was gazing at her in amazement. The fire had burned low, she saw, and the room was cold again.

  ‘You must be Jed.’ She got stiffly to her feet. Terrible to have neglected old Mrs. Paston for so long. ‘I’m kin to Mrs Paston,’ she explained.

  ‘Well, praise be!’ He put a basket carefully down on the table. ‘She could do with some kin right now. I was plumb worried taking so long to come back, but it was hard work, carrying this. Mrs. Frobisher fetched me into the kitchen, the minute the doctor was gone, and packed it up for me. Gave me a good dinner, too. Wouldn’t let me come till I’d had it.’ He was unpacking the basket of provisions, and Mercy moved over to help him.

  ‘Bless the woman. Arrowroot and broth. Would you make up the fire for me, Jed, and I’ll heat some for Mrs. Paston? I must go see how she is.’

  She had slept a long time. The light was beginning to fade, and she could just make out the two still figures in the improvised bedroom. Ruth had fallen asleep on the floor, her head awkwardly propped against her mother’s cot.

  ‘Shh …’ said Mrs. Paston softly. ‘Don’t wake her. There’s time enough for her to be unhappy. You are going to look after her, aren’t you, Mercy?’ Her face had changed, sunk in, the jaw dropped a little, and Mercy thought talking hurt her.

  ‘Yes. But now I’m going to bring you some broth.’

  ‘No. I’d rather you stayed. I don’t seem to want food, and I do need to talk to you. I’ve been lying here, thinking what’s best for you to do. I think you should go back south, Mercy. To Hart’s family. They’re Ruth’s family too, after all. I don’t rightly understand why Hart brought you north in the first place.’

  ‘He had to. It’s not safe for me in Savannah, not now the British hold it. I was working against them. They found out.’ Behind the brief statement lay memory of Francis Mayfield’s implacable search for her on Hutchinson Island, Hart’s last-minute rescue, and Francis’s horrible death. ‘Hart saved my life,’ she said.

  ‘Dear Hart. I loved him like a son. Like my Mark.’ Two slow tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘Hart was lonely here at the North,’ she said. ‘Would have been if it hadn’t been for us. We New Englanders are a close, closed lot. I’d go back south if I were you, Mercy. If not to Savannah, then why not Charleston? Doesn’t Mrs. Mayfield have a house there?’

  ‘There’s a rumour the British are going to attack Charleston.’ She had learned this as a spy in Savannah. ‘Hart will look for me here. He promised to come in the spring.’ Once again a superstitious shiver went through her as she remembered that bold promise about prizes.

  ‘Of course. Stupid me. But I’m afraid you’ll find it hard here. They don’t like Ruth much. She scares them. I’ve sometimes been afraid … Absurd, of course. Nobody would. We’re civilised these days. Or think so. But these are strange times. They bring out the brute in men. My cousin Golding said he was taking the children away because … because he was afraid. Possessed, he called her. My little Ruth. I wish you’d take her south, Mercy.’

  ‘I wish I could,’ said Mercy. ‘But things aren’t so bad as you think, Mrs. Paston. The man who drove me here has gone to fetch his friends. He says they’ll be angry at what’s happened to Mark Paston’s family. He promised to be back tonight.’

  ‘I hope he comes,’ said Mrs. Paston. And then: ‘Hush, child.’ Ruth had sat bolt upright with a strangled scream. ‘It was only a dream, only a bad dream. I’m here. Mercy’s here. No one will hurt you. Mercy won’t let them. Mercy’s going to look after you.’

  ‘I’m going to make us all some broth,’ said Mercy as Ruth’s screams dwindled into a quiet, desperate sobbing. ‘Mrs. Frobisher sent a great basket of provisions, God bless her.’

  ‘I hope her husband doesn’t find out,’ said Mrs. Paston.

  She made a gallant effort to eat the broth Mercy fed her, but it was no use. ‘Don’t waste it on me,’ she said at last. ‘Give me a little more of that blessed rum, and at least I’ll die cheerful.’

  ‘You’re not going to die, Mother.’ Food had brought colour to Ruth’s cheeks. ‘You’re going to live forever and ever and ever.’

  ‘I’m glad I’m not,’ said Mrs. Paston, and Mercy guessed at the pain she was concealing. ‘And if I should die, Ruth, my darling, you are going to do everything that Cousin Mercy tells you, just as if she were me. Do you promise me that?’

  ‘You’re not going to die,’ said Ruth mulishly.

  ‘But just suppose I did, I want you to promise me. About Cousin Mercy. About minding what she says. Hushing when she tells you to, just the way you do for me. Promise me, Ruth.’ With a great effort she pulled herself up against her pillows and took Ruth’s hand in hers. ‘Now yours, Mercy.’

  Holding it out, Mercy recognised the formidable woman whom Hart had loved and respected.

  ‘Promise to be sisters.’ She spoke with increasing effort. Moving had hurt her. ‘You, Ruth, promise you’ll mind Mercy the way you did me. And you, Mercy, promise you’ll look out for Ruth as if she were your sister.’

  ‘I promise.’ Mercy smiled at Ruth.

  Ruth’s cold hand writhed in hers. ‘I don’t want …’ she began, but her mother interrupted her.

  ‘Ruth.’ Mrs. Paston’s voice was stern. ‘Don’t make me ask you twice.’

  Ruth looked full at Mercy, who realised with a little shock that, happy, she could be ‘beautiful. There was a short silence; then Ruth leant forward and kissed Mercy on the cheek. ‘I promise,’ she said. ‘I’ll try, Mother.’

  ‘Thank you, my darling. And now I think I’ll sleep a little. I hope that man comes back,’ she said as Mercy helped settle her on her pillows.

  ‘He’ll come.’ Mercy left Ruth to watch beside her mother and took the dishes out to the kitchen, where she found Jed lighting candles.

  ‘Wax,’ he said. ‘That’s a good woman, Mrs. Frobisher. I sure hope her husband don’t notice.’

  ‘So do I. But, Jed, I don’t understand. How could Mr. Golding leave his cousin with nothing, like this?’

  ‘Oh, do him justice, he didn’t.’ Jed looked at her sombrely. ‘He left servants on board wages, a couple, and me, of course, and stuff for the winter. Only they didn’t reckon much to Miss Ruth, the couple, that is, Mr. and Mrs. Jacks. Well, Mr. Golding made no secret she scared him, and the kids used to holler when she hollered, and Mrs. Golding wouldn’t be in the room with her, so what with one thing and another you can see how the Jackses felt. This was back in the fall. The Goldings left when the roads were still dry from the summer. Long evenings; quiet nights; everything went fine for a while. Until Miss Ruth had her first screaming fit. I like Miss Ruth.’ He coloured as he said it. ‘She can’t help it she was scared silly by the Indians. I told the Jackses, told them and told them that night. We were all kind of wore out by the time Miss Ruth settled. I sleep out back in the shed,’ he explained. ‘Time I woke, those Jackses had gone and taken pretty near all the food and stuff with them. And the waggon. And the better of the horses Mr. Golding left behind. I tell you, when it first started to snow, I was right down glad. I could get about again, see. On the sledge. Stock up with a few provisions, but I didn’t reckon on the way prices had gone up. Nor on a winter like this.’

  ‘None of us did. You were good to stand by the Pastons, Jed.’

  ‘Oh, that was nothing. I’m kind of …’ Once again he blushed. ‘Kind of fond of them. Besides, I’ve nowhere else to go. My father was killed at Bunker Hill, and Ma … Ma, she took up with an English soldier. I couldn’t stay, not with that going on, so I cut and run for it, and Mr. Golding took me in as yard boy. I was just a littl’un then. No wages. I worked for my keep, and lucky to get it, he said.’

  ‘And now?’

  He shrugged. ‘Just the same. You don’t know Mr. Golding. He cheated Mrs. Paston something wicked over that plot of hers at Lexington. Everyone knew tha
t. She did, too, I’m sure, but what could she do? And him making a favour of having her. It made you sick to hear him. She’s dying, ain’t she? She has the look Pa had after he was wounded. What’s going to happen then, ma’am? What’s going to happen to Miss Ruth?’

  ‘I’ve promised to look after her.’ Had she been mad to do so? But what else could she have done?

  ‘Oh, I’m glad.’ His reaction was heartwarming. ‘That’s the best news yet. I’ve been right down worried for Miss Ruth, and that’s no lie. A winter like this, no one’s got anything to do but sit home and talk. And it’s not been nice talk, not about Miss Ruth. I heard something in the doctor’s kitchen I didn’t like about half. Something about witches and Salem. You’ll take her away, won’t you, ma’am, and let me come too? No wages, of course. Just the same as ever.’

  ‘Thank you, Jed. But as to going away, I don’t know what to do for the best. My husband will look for me here.’

  ‘You could leave a message,’ he said. ‘He’s a privateer captain, ain’t he?’ Awed respect in his tone. ‘They can get anywhere. He’ll find you. I don’t like to think what might happen to Miss Ruth if she stayed here through the winter. People act funny since this war. When they get into crowds. I saw a tarring and feathering once. Miss, it was horrible. The man died after.’

  ‘I’ve seen one, too.’ Mercy shuddered, remembering the times she had encountered the mob in Savannah. ‘But surely, it could never happen here; not in New England? It all seems so peaceful, so civilised …’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to bet Miss Ruth’s life on that.’ Jed jumped to his feet. ‘There’s someone coming now!’

  ‘Bill Barnes, I hope. The man who brought me.’ But she had caught his anxiety, and they hurried together to gaze out the front window.

  She saw Bill Barnes, alone and looking anxious, too. ‘Thank God it’s snowing again.’ He stamped his feet as he entered the kitchen and dusted down his greatcoat before he took it off.

  ‘Thank God?’ Mercy asked, puzzled.

  ‘Yes. I wouldn’t have believed it. The things they’re saying in town. About Mark Paston’s sister.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Mercy exchanged a quick glance with Jed.

  ‘And that’s not all.’ Barnes tramped through into the kitchen and held out cold hands to the fire. ‘There’s talk about you, too, ma’am. Being a Jonah. I hate to tell you. But rumour flies fast across the ice. Men from one of the ships frozen in got to speak to the crew of the Georgia while you and Cap’n Purchis were onshore. Heard a bunch of lies and nonsense and passed it on, back to Boston. The place was fair buzzing with talk when I got there. Witches and warlocks and Jonahs and God knows what, all mixed up together. Parcel of rubbish.’ He was both angry and very worried indeed. ‘How’s the old lady?’ he asked.

  ‘Dying.’

  ‘We couldn’t move her?’

  ‘Not possibly. You don’t really think something might happen?’ She paused, facing this new threat with a mixture of horror and fury.

  ‘I’m darned glad it’s snowing,’ he said again. ‘Bit of luck, it should keep those madmen at home. Talk of riding the pair of you out of town on a rail,’ he said grimly. ‘And the Georgia sailed with the tide, so no chance of help from that quarter.’

  ‘Oh, I’m glad,’ said Mercy. And then. ‘But the crew. If they were talking like that …’

  ‘It don’t sound good for Cap’n Purchis, ma’am, and that’s the truth. I just hope he gets a fine prize quick and easy. It might make all the difference. You know how it is.’ Was he apologising for the Georgia’s crew? ‘A woman on board ship’s always trouble. I’m sorry, ma’am.’

  ‘Oh, it’s true enough,’ she said wearily. ‘But what else could we do?’

  ‘No use crying over spilt milk. The question is, what’s to do now? First of all’ – he turned to Jed – ‘come and help me bring in what I brought. I’ve some friends still. I’m not empty-handed. And maybe you’d like to have a look at the old lady, ma’am. Just in case …’

  He hoped Mrs. Paston was dead. Horrible. If she was, would he load them all into that capacious sledge of his and take them away from this lonely, dangerous house? Mercy thought that was what he wanted to do and went obediently into the little room, where Ruth sat immobile by the bed and her mother’s breathing had become more louder, more difficult. Her hand, lying on the patchwork quilt, was cold as ice, but she opened tired eyes and smiled up at Mercy. ‘The man came back?’ Her voice was a painful whisper.

  ‘Yes. He’s brought supplies. They’re unloading them now. Everything’s going to be all right, Mrs. Paston.’ If only she believed it.

  ‘Good. God bless you, Mercy. And give my love to Hart.’

  ‘I will.’ If I ever see him again, she thought, and, returning to the kitchen, found Bill Barnes standing a rifle behind the door.

  ‘Oh!’ He looked at her sheepishly, caught in the act.

  ‘Bill! You don’t really think!’ Still, she could not believe it.

  ‘I think anything could happen, ma’am, if it should stop snowing, which it often does at dark. It’s a full moon, remember, and with the roads all ice it’s no kind of journey out from Boston. And picking up more madmen on the way, from what the boy says. Full moon does funny things to people, besides showing them the way.’

  ‘When does it rise?’ Looking out, Mercy saw that it was full dark now. Jed was lighting more candles, apparently brought by Bill Barnes, and there were bundles of food on the kitchen table.

  ‘I hear the doctor’s wife turned up trumps.’ Bill Barnes changed the subject.

  ‘Yes, but I can’t get Mrs. Paston to take anything.’ She saw he was shaking snow from a bedding roll. ‘Oh, Bill, you’re staying!’

  ‘I’ll say I’m staying.’

  ‘But your wife. Won’t she be worried?’

  ‘Daisy’s been dead two years,’ he told her. ‘Died of grief, I always reckoned, after our boy was killed at Saratoga. We have to win this war, ma’am, just to make it all worthwhile.’

  ‘Yes.’ She thought of her own dead. Her father, killed by the mob, six years ago, at Savannah, and all the friends and acquaintances who had perished during the harsh years of war. ‘I’m sorry, Bill. And I’m more grateful than I can say that you are staying. Where will you sleep?’

  ‘Jed and I have fixed it all. One of us will sleep in here and keep the fire up, the other watch in the front room, just in case.’

  ‘You really think something may happen?’

  ‘I wish it would start snowing again.’

  ‘Yes.’ Mercy took a sacking apron down from behind the kitchen door and tied it round her waist. ‘Well, we’d better have some supper before the moon rises.’

  She took Ruth’s supper to her but did not try to rouse Mrs. Paston, who had fallen into a deep, snoring sleep.

  Finishing her own salt pork and hoecake, Mercy turned to Barnes., ‘D’you think if they come, they might fire the house?’

  ‘Ma’am, they might do anything.’

  She picked up a candlestick. ‘Jed, come and help me carry bedding down for Ruth and me. We’ll sleep with Mrs. Paston, so we’re all close together. And you must let me share the watch with you,’ she told Barnes.

  ‘No, ma’am. You’ve had enough for one day. You get your rest while you can.’

  ‘Promise you’ll wake me if they come?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said grimly. ‘You’ll wake all right.’

  Her last thought, before exhaustion had its way with her, was of Hart. Hart sailing away with a disaffected crew. Hart, who had never really believed them married …

  Barnes’s voice roused her, speaking urgently to Jed. ‘Wake up, boy, they’re coming.’

  Moonlight streamed in at the uncurtained window. Ruth and her mother were fast asleep. Mercy, who had slept in her clothes, got quietly to her feet, picked up her boots, and moved softly into the front room. Both Barnes and Jed were there, peering out the window. ‘Surprise is what we need,’ Barnes was saying. ‘I
’ll fire one shot over their heads, and then you’ll cover me, Jed, while I go out and speak to them. If I can’t stop them, shoot to kill. It’ll give me time to get back and reload.’

  Mercy had stopped a mob herself in her time and thought he knew his business. ‘Is there a third rifle?’ she asked. ‘I’m not a bad shot.’

  ‘No, but if one of us is hurt, you can take over,’ said Barnes, unsurprised. ‘Ammunition’s here, see. Get the feel of things. I don’t want a light, want to surprise them when they come into view. Soon now.’

  ‘How do you know?’ She had heard nothing.

  ‘Little things. The birds have been carrying on between here and town. You get to know if you live much in the woods. Ah.’

  Now she could hear it too: the murmur of voices, somewhere beyond the bushes that fringed the Golding lot; the rattle of harnesses; a horse’s neigh.

  ‘They’re not trying to keep quiet,’ said Barnes. ‘They don’t expect to be opposed. They just think they’re dealing with three women and a boy. Bit of luck, they won’t even have weapons ready. Just planning to walk in and take over.’

  Mercy shuddered. ‘Have we any chance?’

  ‘One in ten,’ he said coolly. ‘We’re ready. They’re not. But we won’t lay any bets on it, ma’am.’

  ‘No.’ Mercy clenched her teeth to stop them from chattering. This waiting was worse than anything. ‘I think I’d rather say my prayers.’

  ‘Then go right ahead. It sure can’t do any harm.’

  ‘Will they be able to see you when you go out to them?’ She had been worrying about this. ‘The moon’s behind the house.’