The Daylight Gate (12 page)

She had made no pictures of clay.

‘And what of the maiming of John Law, Pedlar, by your daughter Alizon?’

She was not responsible for her own daughter nor for her own mother.

‘Call James Device,’ said Potts.

Jem came in. He had not run away on two legs or eight. He looked around at the finery of the hall. He was out of place, drunk, bewildered. But he knew what to do.

P
OTTS:
‘Have you a Familiar that serves you?’

J
EM:
‘His name is Dandy. He is a dog.’

P
OTTS:
‘What does he do for you?’

J
EM:
‘Fetches me things.’

E
LIZABETH
D
EVICE:
‘And that is what a dog is for, you oaf!’

P
OTTS:
‘Silence here! James Device – do you confirm that your mother, Elizabeth Device, on Good Friday, called the Meeting at Malkin Tower?’

J
EM:
‘She did do.’

P
OTTS:
‘And to what purpose?’

J
EM:
‘To make a plot to deliver those in prison.’

P
OTTS:
‘Anything else?’

J
EM:
‘To kill the gaoler there.’

P
OTTS:
‘Anything else?’

J
EM:
‘To conjure a spirit but she did not conjure a spirit.’

E
LIZABETH:
‘You creeping piece of soiled earth! He lies!’

P
OTTS:
‘Why would he lie?’

E
LIZABETH:
‘To save himself, you London fool!’

P
OTTS
stood up. He was short but he stood up and drew himself to his full height. ‘I will not be abused by a witch and a trollop.’

E
LIZABETH:
‘I am glad to hear it, for I am neither the one nor the other.’

P
OTTS:
‘Do you deny the charges against you?’

E
LIZABETH:
‘I deny them.’

P
OTTS:
‘You, James Device, will you testify against your mother?’

J
EM:
‘I will.’

P
OTTS:
‘And against all gathered here that were at Malkin Tower?’

J
EM:
‘I will.’

P
OTTS:
‘Then there is little more to say. Magistrate! I recommend that you commit this Malkin-trash to the prison and we shall hear them again, before a Judge, at the Lancaster Assizes.’

E
LIZABETH:
‘If he is testifying against me, then I am testifying against him. He escaped Malkin Tower by turning himself into a hare!’

There was silence in the room. Jem started to laugh. ‘I am safe, aren’t I, Constable Hargreaves, and Tom? There’s nothing anyone will do to me. I’ll go home now and look after Jennet.’

There was silence in the room. Hargreaves was looking at the floor. Tom Peeper was looking out of the window. Potts looked up from where he was busily writing his notes. ‘Take James Device away with the rest. The Judge will decide.’

Jem bolted for the window, but it was too late. Strong hands held him. He looked imploringly, uncomprehendingly at Tom Peeper. ‘You said I would get a billet at a farm, and a suit of clothes, and food, and a sweetheart …’

Tom Peeper laughed. ‘If the Judge lets you off, maybe you will. But your own mother has admitted you changed into a hare, and, Your Honour, that is what he told me too, but I thought he was drunk.’

‘Shape-shifting is common,’ said Potts. ‘Temporary but common. I have his own confession, now corroborated by his mother. That is sufficient.’

Elizabeth Device started laughing. A high mad laugh. ‘Well done, my fine fellow out of my womb. What have you gained? Nothing! And oh, what have you lost? Everything!’

‘There’s Jennet!’ shouted Jem. ‘She has to be fed and cared for.’

Tom Peeper stepped forward. ‘I will take her on, Your Honours.’

Elizabeth laughed again, harsh and sick. ‘Will you then, after all these years? Well, well, and after all, you are her father.’

Roger Nowell looked aghast. Tom Peeper looked shifty. Constable Hargreaves looked at his boots. James Device had his mouth open. Then he closed his mouth, took his fists from his pockets and knocked down Tom Peeper with a single blow. The man was out cold on the floor.

‘There is one good thing you have done in your stinking life,’ said Elizabeth Device. ‘And it was no
romance
, gentlemen. Tom Peeper raped me. Said I should be glad of it, looking as I do.’

Jem turned to her with hatred. ‘You let me sell your own daughter to her own father.’

‘You would have sold her to someone,’ said Elizabeth. ‘At least he bought her a dress now and then.’

Roger Nowell stood up. ‘Enough. Get them out of here. The child Jennet will sleep and eat in my kitchen for the time being.’ He looked down at Tom Peeper. ‘Hargreaves, go and throw that live vermin into the pond. If he drowns, let him. If not, keep him out of my sight.

Hargreaves had his men lift up the senseless body.

‘You from Malkin,’ said Roger Nowell, ‘you will leave here at dawn except for Elizabeth Device and James Device who will leave at noon. Take them to the cellars. Feed them.’

‘There is one missing,’ said Elizabeth.

‘There is another witch?’ said Potts. ‘If you testify it will go in your favour.’

‘You lie!’ shouted Jem.

‘Will you make me a promise and have it witnessed?’ said Elizabeth Device.

Potts motioned for the others to be led away. Now there were only the three of them in the room.

‘I want no stocks, no chains, no hanging, no
burning
,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Write it down. Witness it, Master Nowell.’

‘Who is it?’ said Potts. ‘Who is the witch?’

‘Alice Nutter,’ said Elizabeth Device.

The Hourglass Running

ALICE NUTTER RETURNED
to the Rough Lee. The herbalist was waiting for her with the poppet.

‘Now do you believe me?’

Alice nodded. She was shaking. She did not tell her about the head. ‘Will you help me?’

Together they packed the chest with silver and clothes, and had the stable boys load it onto a cart hitched to the herbalist’s donkey, and away she went with money to take two horses and a coach to Manchester the next morning.

Alice secured her jewels and cash and deeds of deposit in a soft leather bag and hid the bag in the passage that connected her study and bedroom. She took several vials of liquid from her cupboard, and as she did so, she saw Edward Kelley’s letter where she had put it on the day that it burned.

She took it out.

And if thou callest him, like unto an angel of the north wearing a dark costume, he will hear thee and come to thee. Yet meet him where he may be met – at the Daylight Gate
.

She put the letter inside her dress.

Then she opened a small box and took out a tiny mirror. The mirror had a silver rim and a silver back and its glass was made of mercury. This was the mirror that John Dee had given her.

There was one thing left: the vial of elixir.

She went to bed. She turned her hourglass to start its running. She would rise by 2 a.m. and be gone before three o’clock.

And Running Out

IT WAS AROUND
nine o’clock at night when Christopher Southworth rode into Lancaster.

He lodged his horse at the Red Lion near Gallows Hill, took a room for himself and ate bread and meat. Then leaving unnoticed on foot he made his way to Lancaster Castle.

It was easy enough to get past the sentries. The fog had not lifted. He was as good as invisible. He had a rope and a hook and he scaled the wall. He had done this before.

He found the Well Dungeon by the grating in the ground.

He lay down. ‘Jane!’

Jane Southworth was standing in her customary spot under the grating, waiting for rain. She heard her
name
. Now she knew she had gone mad. The voice came again. ‘Jane!’

She looked up the thirty feet to the grating. She could see nothing. Then she heard the grating being lifted away. She looked round. The others were asleep but for Nance Redfern who was somewhere with the gaoler.

A rope dropped down into the dungeon. Down the rope came Christopher Southworth.

‘Jane!’ He threw his arms around her. She knew then that she must be dead. ‘Jane, climb onto my back and we will be gone. Hurry!’

She looked at him, shaking her head. ‘Is it you, Kit? Am I dead?’

He gave her water and she drank the whole flask. He gave her a piece of meat that she ate slowly, never taking her eyes off him. He told her that she was not dead. That he had come from France to rescue her.

‘It is a plot,’ she said. ‘They had a child accuse me of holding the Black Mass. My maid accused me of sticking pins into a poppet. They will find any way to ruin the Southworths.’

He held her to him. She was bones and filth. He wanted to cry and he wanted to tear the dungeon apart with his hands.

‘Catch hold fast to my body. I have strength to pull us
both
out of here. We shall go at once to London and then to France.’

She shook her head. ‘If I stand trial I may be acquitted. If I escape with you tonight, even if we are not caught, then they will claim it as witchcraft.’

‘What of it?’

‘Then they have won. If they win others will suffer. And do you believe that they do not know you are here?’

‘They are looking for me in Pendle. Not here. Come with me.’

Old Demdike woke up. Her eyes were filmy with cataracts but she could see the tall dark outline of Christopher Southworth. ‘It is the Dark Gentleman! I knew he would come!’

Alizon Device roused herself, rubbed her eyes and stared at Christopher. Chattox snored on.

Old Demdike struggled to her feet numb in their rags, and shoved her stinking body up against him. ‘I knew you would not abandon me!’

Christopher pushed her off. ‘Get away from me, you hag! Which one are you?’

‘Demdike. I am Demdike! You have my Soul. Here is my body.’

Her hair was matted. Her skin was thin and lined with red vein marks round her nose and cheeks. Hairs
grew
from her moles. Her neck had joined her shoulders. The rest was a shapeless mass.

He did not know what to say or what to do. Was this the lover of his lover?

She put out her hand. One finger was missing. It was the third finger of her left hand … ‘
Remember me
…’

He remembered the ring on Alice’s finger, her skin smooth and clear.

He looked at Old Demdike again. She had green eyes. Eyes like a pool in Pendle Forest. Eyes like the forest when it rains and the sky is green and the earth is green and the air is green. She had green eyes.

Jane would not go with him. She asked him for a Bible and he gave her his missal. He gave her money to bribe the gaoler for food and water. He took off his cloak and wrapped it round her.

There were noises outside. He had to leave. He kissed Jane and climbed rapidly up the rope hand over hand. He was strong and agile. He hauled himself out at the top and lay on the stones level with the grating. He could hear them below.

‘It was the Dark Gentleman!’

‘Then why didn’t he take us?’

‘He will, I tell you he will!’

*

He lay on the stones, his heart beating. Life was an intervention. At every moment the chances change. If Jane were with him now. If they were escaping together. If James had not come to the throne. If the Gunpowder Plot had never happened. If Elizabeth had not executed Mary. If Henry had not wanted a divorce. If the Pope had not excommunicated England. If England were a Catholic country still.

All the history, all the facts, what were they but chances? And for himself, so far, he was not dead. And there was Alice, who had chosen for him. If he had not come back, she would not have chosen for him.

He lay on the stones. He could change his name, his country, his faith. The tortures had changed his body. He had tried to change history.

He could not change the fact of his birth or, by very much, the fact of his death. This was his time.

He had an image of an hourglass.

Dead Time

ALICE NUTTER WAS
up early. She had dressed and was ready to leave when she saw them from the window. She was in no doubt. They had come for her.

She left her precious things in their secret place and went downstairs to open the door herself. She would not hide like a coward. Let them come for her. She would leave of her own free will. She would not be taken.