godly still to the day that he left to fight. And were it they had no other but he to speake for them then they would not have been taken so low. But he concurr’d Rebecca was made much distress’d by the trial and, some said, had lost her wits.
“Witham says Hopkins is dead,” said I. “Rebecca is mistaken.”
“There is the ship’s ledger,” says he.
“Another man,” says I. “Your clerk has made a wage of our misfortune.”
We returned and found her and did sober and calm convey the preacher’s words. She did listen with tears and entreaties. And though she was much reduced to me, her form did quiver and seem most pitiful. Then she withdrew and Drakers and I agreed we should return Rebecca to his house in Boxted. He pressed me earnestly to join him on the morrow one last time so we may ask in the town for the child. If nothing was to come of it, he would take Rebecca and treat her there as his sister.
I was not so hasty in my agreement as I was in my first heat of hearing Rebecca’s story.
I said to him with a sigh, “God has led me so far. After the morrow I must continue on my way.”
Though his eyes did not meet mine I saw in his face that he took my meaning.
Without more talk we both retired.
Dear God send your humble servant guidance, I prithee.
Lord, I have surely carried through my task. The Levite is healed. Her woes like Job have been of great endurance. But I cannot know if she has abandoned you, Oh Lord. I pray not.
I am in a state of confusion as to the mercy I have bestowed. I give thanks unto the Lord for he is good. God of Gods have mercy on me for I know not what course to take.’
August 19th, 1647
In my prayers last night I did ask the Almighty for guidance. When I awoke I did think of Rebecca’s tears. They were real I swear. And Drakers too is a good and noble soldier. I must not be overtaken by the judgement of others.
So with renewed vigour this morning I did accompany Drakers to the village. We left word for Rebecca that we would return soon, perchance with some news.
Many with whom we spoke did tell of another woman come by, asking of the Same – Rebecca had already been about in the village.
After noon we return’d to the Inn but found her not to be in her quarters so went out once more to seek her.
Our search took long and was not fruitful. Yea though afore night fell we did hear she was found and we did hasten to the place, down by the river, where we did find her lifeless form wrapped in the leaves of the weeping willow. If she had come to seek or come to drown we would never know. Nor of the child that griev’d her so.
Drakers stays on to bury the girl. And I must away home.
May God have mercy on her soul. May piteous Rebecca now find her peace.
As I pulled my head up from the page I could feel myself beginning to whirl, as if someone was spinning me round in the chair, and then I was there in the brook with violent pains in my head. The cold wetness, yielding, took me in and took me down.
‘Oh child of mine forgive me. Sweetling babe I will watch o’er you now. Through the tides of time and fortune I will follow you even now.’
The water came above me and I breathed its cold hard kiss; falling down into the darkness that led me on to the abyss.
Chapter Forty
I was staring at the wall. My face was wet. A pounding melancholy had me in its grip. The words of The Weeping Willow echoed round my head: pale and wild, pale and wild. It was about her – I saw that now. Rebecca’s story was so very moving: she was a victim time and time again, utterly without power, abused and betrayed by those around her, reviled as deviant. Even after she and her mother had long passed away, her reputation remained tarnished – the witch, the child-killer. So wrong on both counts. But none denied it. The Essex folk who survived the Civil War and the witch hunts merely turned their faces away from the episode. What was the point of crying over spilt milk? Best to let sleeping