crowd. The hanging will be her last violation, and then she will be at peace. We must remember her as she was in life. It is the last gift we can give her.”
The ladies all nodded in agreement, and the squire very wisely refrained from adding that he would not have permitted them to attend anyhow. It seemed that I was the only one of the immediate family who would be present at the death of Frankie Silver.
Miss Mary went back to her sewing. I watched her there, haloed in candlelight, making the tiny even stitches on the wool tapestry cloth, and I wondered what she was thinking behind that calm facade. Without looking up at me, she said, “Mr. Gaither, there is something I’d like you to take to the jail tomorrow.”
The governor had fixed the time of the hanging for Friday afternoon the twelfth of July, between the hours of one and four o’clock. I thought the actual time of the execution would be close to four: the late hour would allow the prisoner’s family time to make the journey if they wished, and it would enable most of the onlookers to travel to town from the farthest reaches of the county to view the spectacle. I arrived at the jail just before noon, to find the town streets already choked with people and horses, churning up great quantities of red dust in their wake.
A guard with a rifle was posted on the porch of the white frame building, but the fellow knew me by sight, and he nodded a greeting, offering no objection when I went past him. I wanted to make sure that all the preliminaries for the execution had been performed, and that no detail had been overlooked. I suppose I was half hoping that a special messenger had arrived from Raleigh granting an eleventh-hour reprieve. Certainly one had done so in my dreams these past few nights, but when I entered the hallway of the jail, I could see that no hope remained.
John Boone looked as old and sick as I had ever seen him. He cannot have slept these past few days, for his eyes were bleak with weariness and his skin was gray as worm flesh. “Is all in readiness?” I asked him.
He nodded. “The preparations are made. The rope and the wagon stand ready, and all the constables will be present in case anyone tries to interfere with the execution.”
“Interfere?” The thought of an attack had not occurred to me until then. “The Stewarts, you mean?”
“Perhaps. She will not say who helped her to escape. Feelings are running high about the execution. We can trust no one.”
I saw that he was eyeing the white bundle under my arm, and I hastened to assure him that he had nothing to fear from me. “Miss Mary sent this to the prisoner,” I said. “It is only cloth. You will want to open it and examine it carefully, of course, but I think I can vouch for my sister-in-law.”
Sheriff Boone did not smile. “I can’t have anyone slipping her poison,” he grunted, unwrapping the package and fingering its contents. “It seems all right. From Miss Mary Erwin, you say? Will you want to give this to her yourself?”
I nodded. “I think I should. The ladies have asked me to say good-bye to her for them. I won’t stay very long, if you’ll allow me to go up now and see her.”
“All right. I think she’s calm enough, though she will not eat. Sarah Presnell has been with her most of the morning, but she left a little while ago. I think she’s making a last meal for Mrs. Silver. I reckon she’ll be glad of some company, to take her mind off her sorrow. The preacher came, but she wouldn’t see him.”
“What about her family?”
“Her father and brother are here in town, but I cannot allow them in the jail because of the escape. She has not asked for them.”
He clambered up the stairs, pausing for breath at the top step. “I hate to see this happen, Mr. Gaither. She’s no older than my children, poor lass.”
I patted his arm. “I know. We must try to ease her suffering all we can.”
I stood back while John Boone unlocked the door to the prisoner’s cell. “Visitor for you, Frankie!” he called out. “I’ll be downstairs,” he told me, and as he walked past me, I saw his eyes glisten with unshed tears in the dim