so easy to do. In just a few moments he had them all asking him to take the knife, absolving him in advance of any accident that might happen. He had even won the first scrap of friendship from Alvin Miller. Ah, I have deceived you all, he thought triumphantly. I am a match for your master the devil. I have deceived the great deceiver, and will send his corrupt progeny back to hell within the hour.
"Who will hold the boy?" asked Thrower. "Even with wine in him, the pain will make him jump if he isn't held down."
"I'll hold him," said Measure.
"He won't take no wine," said Faith. "He says he has to have his head clear."
"He's a ten-year-old boy," said Thrower. "If you insist that he drink it, he's bound to obey you."
Faith shook her head. "He knows what's best. He bears up right smart under pain. You never seen the like."
I imagine not, said Thrower silently. The devil within the boy no doubt revels in the pain, and doesn't want the wine to dim the ecstasy. "Very well, then," he said. "There's no reason to delay further." He led the way into the bedroom and boldly pulled the blanket off Alvin's body. The boy immediately began trembling in the sudden cold, though he continued sweating from the fever. "You say that he has marked the place to cut?"
"Al," said Measure. "Reverend Thrower here is going to do the cutting."
"Papa," said Alvin.
"It's no use asking him," said Measure. "He just plain won't."
"Are you sure you won't have some wine?" asked Faith.
Alvin started to cry. "No," he said. "I'll be all right if Pa holds me."
"That does it," said Faith. "He may not do the cutting, but he'll be here with the boy or he'll be stuffed up the chimney, one or the other." She stormed out of the room.
"You said the boy would mark the place," Thrower said.
"Here, Al, let me set you up here. I got some charcoal, and you mark right on your leg here just exactly where you want that flap of skin took up."
Alvin moaned as Measure lifted him to a sitting position, but his hand was steady as he marked a large rectangle on his shin. "Cut it from the bottom, and leave the top attached," he said. His voice was thick and slow, each word an effort. "Measure, you hold that flap back out of the way while he cuts."
"Ma'll have to do that," said Measure. "I got to hold you down so you don't jump."
"I won't jump," said Alvin. "If Pa's holding me."
Miller came slowly into the room, his wife right behind. "I'll be holding you," he said. He took Measure's place, sitting behind the boy with his arms wrapped clear around him. "I'm holding you," he said again.
"Very well, then," said Thrower. He stood there, waiting for the next step.
He waited for a good little while.
"Ain't you forgetting something, Reverend?" asked Measure.
"What?" asked Thrower.
"The knife and the saw," he said.
Thrower looked at his handkerchief, wadded in his left hand. Empty. "Why, they were right here."
"You set them down on the table on the way in," said Measure.
"I'll fetch them," said Goody Faith. She hurried out of the room.
They waited and waited and waited. Finally Measure got up. "I can't guess what's keeping her."
Thrower followed him out of the room. They found Goody Faith in the great room, piecing together quilt squares with the girls.
"Ma," said Measure. "What about the saw and the knife?"
"Good laws," said Faith, "I can't imagine what's got into me. I clean forgot why I come out here." She picked up the knife and saw and marched back to the room. Measure shrugged at Thrower and followed her. Now, thought Thrower. Now I'll do all that the Lord ever expected of me. The Visitor will see that I am a true friend to my Savior, and my place in heaven will be assured. Not like this poor, miserable sinner caught up in the flames of hell.
"Reverend," said Measure. "What are you doing?"
"This drawing," said Thrower.
"What about it?"
Thrower looked closely at the drawing over the hearth. It wasn't a soul in hell at all. It was a depiction of the family's oldest boy, Vigor, drowning. He had heard the story at least a dozen times. But why was he standing here looking at it, when he had a great and terrible mission to perform in the other room?
"Are you all right?"
"Perfectly all right," said Thrower. "I just needed