“What about my children?” Ronald asked. “Are they afflicted as well?”
“Your children have been spared,” Chester said.
“Thank the Lord,” Ronald said.
They turned onto Prison Lane. Neither man spoke. Chester pulled to a stop in front of the jail. Ronald told him to wait and alighted from the carriage.
With brittle emotions Ronald sought out the jailer, William Dounton. Ronald found him in his untidy office eating fresh corn bread from the bakery. He was an obese man with a shock of unwashed hair and a red, nodular nose. Ronald despised him, a known sadist who delighted in tormenting his charges.
William was obviously not pleased to see Ronald. Leaping to his feet, he cowered behind his chair.
“No visitors to see the condemned,” he croaked through a mouthful of bread. “By order of Magistrate Hathorne.”
Barely in control of himself, Ronald reached out and grasped a fistful of William’s woolen shirt and drew his face within an inch of his own. “If you have mistreated my wife you’ll answer to me,” Ronald snarled.
“It’s not my fault,” William said. “It is the authorities. I must respect their orders.”
“Take me to her,” Ronald snapped.
“But~.~.~.” William managed before Ronald tightened his grip and constricted his throat. William gurgled. Ronald relaxed his fist. William coughed but produced his keys. Ronald let go of him and followed him. As he unlocked a stout oak door he said, “I will report this.”
“There is no need,” Ronald said. “As soon as I leave here I will go directly to the magistrate and tell him myself.”
Beyond the oak door they passed several cells. All were full. The inmates stared back at Ronald with glazed eyes. Some he recognized, but he didn’t address them. The prison was enveloped with a heavy silence. Ronald had to pull out a handkerchief to cover his nose from the smell.
At the top of a stone staircase, William stopped to light a shielded candle. After opening another stout oak door, they descended into the worst area of the prison. The stench was overwhelming. The basement consisted of two large rooms. The walls were damp granite. The many prisoners were all manacled to the walls or the floor with either wrist or leg irons or both. Ronald had to step over people to follow William. There was hardly room for another person.
“Just a moment,” Ronald said.
William stopped and turned around.
Ronald squatted down. He’d recognized someone he knew to be a pious woman. “Rebecca Nurse?” Ronald questioned. “What in God’s name are you doing here?”
Rebecca shook her head slowly. “Only God knows,” she managed to say.
Ronald stood up feeling weak. It was as if the town had gone crazy.
“Over here,” William said, pointing toward the far corner of the basement. “Let us finish this.”
Ronald followed. His anger had been overwhelmed by pity. William stopped and Ronald looked down. In the candlelight he could barely recognize his wife. Elizabeth was covered with filth. She was manacled in oversized chains and barely had the energy to scatter the vermin which freely roamed the semidarkness.
Ronald took the candle from William and bent down next to his wife. Despite her condition she smiled at him.
“I’m glad you are back,” she said weakly. “Now I don’t have to worry about the children. Are they all right?”
Ronald swallowed with difficulty. His mouth had gone dry. “I have come directly from the ship to the prison,” he said. “I have yet to see the children.”
“Please do. They will be happy to see you. I fear they are disquieted.”
“I shall attend to them,” Ronald promised. “But first I must see to getting you free.”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth said. “Why are you so late in returning?”
“The outfitting of the ship took longer than planned,” Ronald said. “The newness of the design caused us much difficulty.”
“I sent letters,” Elizabeth said.
“I never got any,” Ronald replied.
“Well, at least you are home now,” Elizabeth said.
“I shall be back,” Ronald said as he stood up. He was shaking with panic and beside himself with concern. He motioned to William for them to leave and followed him back to the office.