The Sacrifice Read online

  Aunt Elizabeth turned, startling them all. “Abigail,” she commanded, “go at once and fetch some firewood to get the fire going again. Dorothy, check if your mother and father are upstairs.”

  Aunt Elizabeth strode into the kitchen, Edward on her hip.

  Abigail felt a lump in her throat. What would Dorothy find upstairs? Had Papa finally done himself damage in trying to elude the figures he always felt were chasing him? Had he hurt Mama in the process? She remembered all the times the doctors had tried to figure out what was wrong with Papa. They had bled him, changed his diet, and prayed over him. Finally they had shrugged their shoulders and told Mama that there was nothing they could do to remove these strange, dark fits he had.

  “Please don’t tarry, Abigail,” Aunt Elizabeth admonished, setting Edward on the floor. “The fire is almost out, and there’s the Sabbath meal to warm.”

  “What shall I do, Aunt Lizzy?” Franny piped up.

  “Here, Franny,” Aunt Elizabeth said, removing Edward’s jacket, “watch over your little brother for me and keep him quiet.”

  Paul was sidling toward the door, but Aunt Elizabeth saw him out of the corner of her eye. “And you, young man, go out with Abigail and bring in some kindling.”

  “Bringing in kindling is tomorrow’s chore,” Paul complained.

  “Stop your griping, Paul, and go,” Aunt Elizabeth said, removing her cloak and cap. “You too, Abigail. Quickly now. We have much to do.”

  But Abigail could not leave until Dorothy came down the steep front stairs. She descended slowly, carrying a pewter mug.

  “Some linens were shredded,” Dorothy said softly, “and a chair was upended. The rooms are empty.”

  Aunt Elizabeth’s face went white. Mama and Papa were not in the house, and it was growing dark outside.

  “Are Mama and Papa all right?” Franny asked.

  “They’re probably out having some sport, leaving us with their chores,” Paul muttered.

  Aunt Elizabeth shot him an angry glance. Then she turned to Uncle Daniel. He nodded, and without Aunt Elizabeth saying a word, picked up his hat. “I’ll return with news as quickly as I can,” he said.

  Abigail followed him out into the cool evening air, shutting the door behind her. She walked after him, down the path between the vegetable and herb gardens to the wooden gate in front of their house. “Uncle Daniel?” she called softly.

  He turned. “Aye, Abigail?”

  “It will be all right, won’t it?” she asked.

  Visions of Papa doing himself some terrible harm and accidentally injuring Mama filled Abigail’s head.

  Uncle Daniel had no words of comfort for her. “I cannot say, Abigail. Your father is terrible to see when the fits take him. We can only pray your mother and her reason will protect him this time as before.”

  He turned, and Abigail watched him walk away into the evening’s darkness, down the rutted road toward the village. She tried to hold onto some small hope that Papa was well, but the emptiness of the house seemed to indicate differently.

  Quickly, Abigail gathered up a load of firewood. Her sore legs caused her to shake a little as she lifted the heavy load.

  Paul came out of the house. He picked up a rock and sent it flying into the road. “I’ll have to see to the cows myself tonight,” he complained. “When I’m older, I’m going to have fits every day soI can avoid all manner of chores.”

  “Paul,” Abigail admonished, “you are tempting the devil with words such as those. You do not want Papa’s fits.”

  “I do if it means I don’t have to tend to the cows,” Paul muttered.

  Abigail could not help herself. Even with the situation as it was, and knowing it was a sin on the Sabbath, she had to laugh. Paul always looked at things from his perspective. There was no other.

  “Abigail,” Dorothy called from the house, “Paul. Hurry with the wood!”

  Paul rolled his eyes, but he came and lifted some of the wood from Abigail’s arms. “You must still be weary after yesterday,” he said gruffly.

  Abigail started to thank him, but Paul sighed and said, “If you had kept your senses, you wouldn’t be sore at all.”

  He glanced sternly back at her, but Abigail could see his eyes were soft. Though her little brother was often troublesome, there was always this other side to him. Abigail loved him for it.

  They carried the load into the house, where Aunt Elizabeth and Dorothy were laying out the evening meal, gathering together the pewter mugs and wooden plates and spoons. Paul soon had the fire going again.

  On the wooden floor, Edward was up on all fours, wiggling as he tried unsuccessfully to move himself forward. Franny had taken Aunt Elizabeth at her word and wasn’t letting Edward crawl around. This was frustrating Edward to no end, as he loved movement and lots of it. He let out a wail, and Franny picked him up and cuddled him to her. Edward fought to be put back down, and Franny fought equally hard to contain him. The scene was almost comical. Everythinginside seemed normal.

  “Abigail,” said Aunt Elizabeth, “concentrate on the Sabbath meal and turn away from unpleasant thoughts. Your worrying will come to naught anyway.”

  Abigail nodded and joined her sister at the fire to help with the meal. Soon the leftover bean porridge was warming in the pot over the fire. Its heady smell filled the room, and a rosy glow from the fire encircled them all.

  The warmth of the scene was brought to a halt by a loud banging on the door. Aunt Elizabeth nodded to Dorothy, who hurried to open the door. Abigail prayed the caller was not someone with bad news.

  But the person standing out in the misty evening was Grandpappy. He entered, shaking droplets from his cloak and hat. Tiny beads of moisture had gathered in his bushy brows.

  “Pray tell, where were the likes of you following the service?” he asked everyone.

  His eyes fell on Abigail. “Especially you, young lady. You escaped your just punishment today, for which I will pay most dearly, and you should have had the graciousness to be beside me when the elders came to criticize me.”

  Grandpappy suddenly stopped. An understanding came into his eyes as he realized that Mama and Papa were not there.

  “Where’s Francis?” he asked, his voice low and worried.

  Aunt Elizabeth bit her lower lip.

  “Off having a fit,” Paul said, scowling.

  “Ah, no,” Grandpappy said. He walked over and sank onto a stool by the fire. “This cannot be happening again, not now.”

  He glanced at Aunt Elizabeth. “Tell me quickly, child. What brought it on this time?”

  Aunt Elizabeth shrugged. “I know not, Father. It happened early at breakfast when I was at my own home with Daniel.”

  Grandpappy’s eyes lit on Abigail. “Were you here?”

  Abigail nodded. “I was, but I had slept late. At breakfast, Papa was already ill.”

  Grandpappy’s eyebrows drew together. “Slept late? On the Sabbath? My daughter spoils you, Abigail.”

  He then turned to Paul. “Were you witness to your father’s decline this morning?”

  “No,” Paul said quickly.

  “He was out chasing a badger,” Franny interjected.

  “On the Sabbath?” Grandpappy said, his eyes darkening.

  “He’s been in the fields, tearing everything up,” Paul defended himself. “I had a chance to finally get him. I couldn’t just let him go.”

  Grandpappy looked skeptically at Paul, who blushed.

  “I was here, Grandpappy,” Dorothy spoke up. “Papa’s sickness came about when Mama began to speak of Abigail and what she would face this morning, urging Papa to let her sleep. Papa agreed at first, but then he began to mumble that someone might punish him for letting her sleep. That was when he started his mutterings.”

  Abigail stopped stirring the porridge. She was no longer hungry, now that she realized her actions might have brought about her father’s fit.

  Grandpappy sighed. “Where are they now?”

  “Daniel h
as gone to search them out,” Aunt Elizabeth responded.

  “Bring me a drink, Elizabeth,” Grandpappy bade her. “I will wait here with you for news. ‘Tis not good that this illness is upon Francis again. It could come at no worse time.”

  “Grandpappy,” Dorothy said, coming close to him, “what caused you to speak as you did today at the Sabbath service, and to avoid talking about Abigail?”

  Grandpappy gazed into the fire. “If more important matters did not need to be talked about, your sister would have suffered the full force of my wrath. But there are greater issues that have come to my attention of late.” He paused. “I fear your father’s illness will be linked to these matters if we are not careful.”

  He looked up at the family, his eyes troubled. “Say naught of this fit to anyone. Let us hope that Francis has done nothing to draw attention to his illness this time, and that the night watch does not see them out and about. Let us pray that Daniel finds them safely and brings them back quietly.”

  Aunt Elizabeth brought him a warm mug of cider. “Of what are you so fearful, Father?”

  Grandpappy shook his head. “News has come that the devil has been discovered in Salem Village. They are uncovering witches there at a furious pace.”

  Abigail drew in her breath. The devil in Salem Village? The small village was but a day’s ride from Andover. Her earlier thoughts of hell and damnation closed upon her like a hand at her throat.

  “But how does that affect us?” Paul scoffed. “There are no witches here in Andover.”

  “Nor perhaps in Salem Village,” Grandpappy said, “but that may not stop the townspeople.”

  “What do you mean, Grandpappy?” Dorothy asked.

  “Child, your father, with his illness, is an oddity.” Grandpappy sighed deeply. “An oddity that may just bring about our ruin.”

  Abigail looked at her grandfather’s serious face. The room, which a minute ago had been warm and cozy, suddenly seemed cold.

  five

  They had barely finished their Sabbath meal when Abigail heard a muffled noise. Paul had gone out to bring in the cows, but it was too early for him to be back. She glanced up and saw that Grandpappy and Aunt Elizabeth had heard it too. All eyes turned toward the door.

  “Dorothy,” Grandpappy said roughly, “let them in”

  Dorothy rose swiftly and opened the door. No one was on the stoop, but the odd sounds continued in the darkness.

  “Mama?” Dorothy called out softly.

  “Aye, Dorothy, ’tis I,” Mama called back. “We’ll be there shortly.”

  Aunt Elizabeth went to the door. “Do you need help, Hannah?”

  “Nay, sister,” Mama said. “Daniel is with me.”

  A moment later, they were close enough to the house for Abigail to see them. Uncle Daniel was on one side of Papa, holding him up, and Mama was on the other. Papa was mumbling and seemed dazed and confused.

  Relief flooded through Abigail when she saw that Mama was all right. But then she noticed that her mother had no cap or cloak and that her face was pale.

  Grandpappy rose from the table. “I will take him,” he said.

  Grandpappy was a big man, and he walked outside into the light rain and lifted Papa as if he were a baby. He carried him inside and up the stairs. Abigail could hear his heavy footsteps going toward Mama and Papa’s bedchamber, then the creak of the bed as Grandpappy lay Papa upon it. Uncle Daniel came in and sat down on a stool, taking off his hat and rubbing his eyes. On the floor beside him, Edward was asleep on a blanket.

  Mama went toward the stairs to follow Grandpappy.

  “Hannah, wait,” Aunt Elizabeth said. “You look exhausted. You must eat something. I’ll wager you’ve had naught since breakfast.”

  Mama smiled weakly. “’Tis true. It has been a most difficult day. But I must see to Francis, Eliza.”

  “I will do that,” Aunt Elizabeth said. “You are soaked to the bone, and you will be no good for Francis should you sicken. Come sit by the fire and warm yourself.”

  Mama looked up the stairs and then sighed. “I admit I am most weary, and my hunger is great.”

  Aunt Elizabeth climbed the stairs to help Grandpappy, and Abigail went quickly to the fire and dished out two bowls of bean porridge, one for Mama and one for Uncle Daniel. Mama sat down by the fire, next to Uncle Daniel, and Dorothy poured them both some hot cider. Franny brought bread from the table.

  Abigail placed the bowl in her mother’s hands. She could see that her mother was shaking, so she ran to the door and got her own dry, warm cloak to place on her mother’s shoulders. “Here, Mama.”

  Mama smiled at her. “Thank you, Bear,” she said.

  Then her smile suddenly disappeared. “But I had almost forgotten. Pray tell me, Abigail, how fared you today at the Sabbath service?”

  Abigail was about to reply, but before she could speak, Dorothy came and sat beside Mama.

  “Abigail was given no tongue-lashing, Mama,” Dorothy said. “Grandpappy’s sermon was directed at Salem Village. Witches have been discovered there.”

  Mama’s eyes widened, and again Abby felt a cold chill at the mention of witches and the thought of their devil’s work.

  “Lord,” Mama breathed. “This is a most frightful thing to consider.”

  “Have you ever seen a witch, Mama?” Franny asked, leaning against her.

  Mama shook her head. “I have not, child, and I pray I never do.”

  Grandpappy’s footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  “Is it true, Father?” Mama asked. “Is there devilry in Salem Village?”

  Grandpappy shot Mama a quick glance. “Let us not speak of this matter in front of the children now. I do not believe they should hear the depth of what we must discuss. More importantly, daughter, tell me quickly: Were others aware of your husband’s condition today?”

  Mama glanced into the fire. “I fear so, Father. Francis did take with a most terrible fit. He believed he saw shapes in the widow Browning’s leaded windows, and he broke four of them in his panic.”

  Grandpappy sighed. “Is it possible that no one saw Francis doing this damage? Dare I hope he did his destruction during my Sabbath sermon?” Mama shook her head. “It was following the meeting, Father. In truth, Francis was breaking the windows just as the widow Browning was coming home from the meetinghouse.”

  Abigail glanced over at Dorothy, who looked troubled. Above them, Papa moaned, and Aunt Elizabeth spoke, soft and soothing.

  “Mama,” Franny said, “will they do something to Papa because he broke the windows?” She plucked at her mother’s sleeve.

  Daniel, who had been steadily eating his supper, spoke. “The townsfolk are quite aware of your father’s condition, Franny, and of the fits that take him now and again. I’m sure the widow Browning will be most kind in accepting payment for the replacement of her windows.”

  He looked pointedly at Mama and Grandpappy.

  Mama took the hint at once and rose from her stool by the fire. “Thank you, girls, for a most delicious meal, but I believe it is time to get these little ones abed. Dorothy, I will leave you to attend to the cleaning up. Abigail, come help me with Edward. Franny, run ahead and ready yourself for bed, child. Now where’s Paul got off to?”

  “He went to bring in the cows before you came home,” Abigail replied.

  Mama nodded. “Good boy,” she said. “Come along then, Bear. I am most weary and would welcome your help tonight.”

  Abigail picked up Edward and followed Mama and Franny up the stairs. But from the corner of her eye, she saw Grandpappy and Uncle Daniel pulling their stools closer to the fire, and bending their heads, one to the other. And she wished with all her might that she could hear their talk tonight.

  Mama tucked Dorothy, Abigail, and Franny into their beds, laying a hand tenderly upon each of their cheeks before going back down the stairs.

  Abigail lay in the dark, looking up at the ceiling and thinking about all that Grandpappy had said that night.
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  “Dorothy,” she whispered, “do you think that sometimes Papa has the devil with him? Could it be possible that one day we shall be like him too?”

  Dorothy turned her white-capped head toward Abby. “Hush,” she whispered. “We mustn’t frighten Franny.”

  “I’m not frightened,” Franny spoke up from where she lay in the bed across the room. “I know Papa’s no devil.”

  Abigail smiled in the darkness. She remembered how easy it was to be brave at the age of six.

  “Go to sleep, Franny,” Dorothy said. “You are sensible not to worry. Grandpappy will see to Papa and Mama. He always does.”

  Then Dorothy turned toward Abby. “You go to sleep too, sister. There is naught we can do tonight. You and Franny and I are not weak in the head like Papa. He has been this way a long time, and I’ll wager Grandpappy will have the sympathy of the town on our side before the morrow.”

  “Aye, Dorothy,” Abigail replied, turning as if she intended to sleep. But she did not, and when at last she felt her elder sister’s body slacken beside her and heard Franny’s soft and steady breath from across the room, she rose from the bed and tiptoed out of the room. Silently, she tread down the steep stairs until she could see Uncle Daniel, Mama, Grandpappy, and Aunt Elizabeth and hear all they had to say.

  “You are certain then, sir?” Uncle Daniel asked.

  Grandpappy nodded. “As certain as one can be in these matters. I sat with the other ministers and watched these young girls. Their fits are most frightful to see. They twist and moan and clutch at their arms as if being made to perform in ways most unwanted by them.”

  Abigail drew in her breath. Younggirls were being tormented by the devil?

  “If it is so fearful then,” Aunt Elizabeth said, “what makes you certain that it is not in fact the devil that takes them?”

  Grandpappy shook his head. “I do not believe in witchcraft, Elizabeth. I think the girls are doing nothing more than having a bit of sport.”

  “Sport that is causing chaos,” Uncle Daniel said angrily. “If the girls are truly lying, they should be punished.”