silver buttons that must be insignia of some sort. She had an air of dominance about her. “I’m Chief Warden Somers. Who are you sir, and what is your business?” she asked.
Amos felt a little over-awed in her presence but he tried hard not to let it show.
“My name will mean little to you, but I am Amos Carlisle. My business is a prisoner held here from the Leeke court last week. Her name is Sarah Fletcher and she was charged with begging”, said Amos.
“I see, but how can I be of assistance?” asked the Chief Warden.
“Well, I’m hoping that first you can confirm that she is held here. Next I need to know her date of release. The fact is that I am the guardian of her child and I feel a duty to help her upon release. She is apparently destitute – nowhere to shelter and no means to support herself. Without help her only course is to resort to begging again and she will undoubtedly return again to this establishment, unless someone is prepared to help her”, he said.
The Chief Warden’s attitude visibly softened, and she stepped behind the desk and raised a huge ledger from within. Holding the open ledger towards to lamp she read out, “Fletcher. Sarah. Sentence; fourteen days for begging to the annoyance of passengers and residents. Leeke Justices Court, September, twentyfourth.” She continued, “That, as you can work out for yourself, makes the release date the eighth of October. She will be released at ten o’clock in the morning. Does that answer your questions?” Amos thanked her profoundly and said, “I’ll be waiting outside for her when she is released”.
Having achieved all the information he had sought, he was ready to leave, but Chief Warden Somers asked him to remain where he was. She went to the door and summoned the guard who had led Amos to the office. There was a quiet conversation between the two and the guard left. She again turned to Amos and said,
“I’ve sent for Fletcher. I’m sure you would wish to speak with her”, and Amos replied,
“Thank you ma’am. I fear she won’t know me but I’m quite sure she’ll be pleased to learn of her daughter”.
Some minutes passed and Amos was left alone in the room again. The waiting was unbearable, the expectation of at last meeting this lady, Sarah, and the worry that she wouldn’t accept his good intentions. Footsteps along the corridor, accompanied by a persistent cough, announced the entrance of Sarah with both the Chief Warden and the portly guard. The Chief Warden said,
“Fletcher, this is Mr. Carlisle. He wishes to help you and he has news of your daughter. I’ll leave you alone for a moment or two. The guard will be outside the door”, and turning to Amos continued,
“Goodbye Mr. Carlisle, there is no need for me to see you again. The guard will see you out when you have finished”, and with that she turned away and was gone.
Even in the poor light of the oil lamp Amos could see only too well Sarah’s emaciated form. The sunken cheeks and that cough were evidence enough of how she had been living. In the few seconds before either of them spoke he could see beyond the sunken cheeks, the red eyes from her crying, and her lank, unwashed hair, that there was a certain beauty that could be coaxed back again with care and support.
“Sarah, you don’t know me, but I know a lot about you; Ruth has told me”, he began.
Sarah took a step towards him,
“Where is she? Is she alright?”
The pleading in her voice and the wringing of her hands betrayed the agony that she was going through. Taking Sarah gently by the shoulders and looking straight into her eyes, he said,
“Ruth’s fine. She’s waiting for me just outside. She’s staying with me and I’m looking after her. They’re going to release you on the eighth, that’s just seven days time, and we shall both be waiting for you outside when you’re set free”. She took Amos’s hands in both of hers and squeezed. The mixture of anguish and gratitude inside her welled up and the tears cascaded down her cheeks.
“Thank you, thank you. Thank you a thousand times. Please keep her safe for me. I don’t know how I shall ever repay you”. Amos quickly silenced her putting a finger to her lips, saying, “Hush now, there’s no need to talk of repayment. I just want to help you both”.
Outside once more, Amos drew in deep lungs full of clean fresh air, pleased to escape the acrid air of the prison and the unpleasant smell of bad breath. He pulled his coat around him as he hurried down the road to where Ruth waited with the horse. She looked at him with wide eyes full of anticipation. Amos couldn’t help the tears welling in his eyes as he spoke to her. He tried hard to hide his emotion but it was to no avail.
“I’ve seen your ma and she’s alright. She’s been worried about you but I’ve told her that you’re staying with me and we’ll both be waiting here for her when she’s set free in seven days time.” Turning towards the horse he tried to hide his tears which he wiped away with the sleeve of his jacket. The ride back to the caravan wasn’t going to seem half as far.
The week was going to pass very slowly for them both but Amos had a remedy to take their minds away from the days of waiting – the strategy was work. After a good breakfast the next morning, they headed towards a small farm on the sloping land towards the foot of the Roaches, a high rocky formation, separating the pasture land from the high moors. As with most farms in this area it was rented from the large Swythamly Estate, and the living was hard. As they walked into the farm yard a dog ran to greet them, barking excitedly.
An elderly gentleman looked out from the doorway of a cattle shed, and seeing Amos, shouted,
“Amos owd friend, how art thee?” and then catching sight of Ruth hiding behind him, continued, “and who be the young un?”
“I’m well Master John, and this here’s my young friend, Ruth”. The farmer obviously knew Amos and knew full well that he didn’t have a child of his own, but Amos chose not to elaborate at that moment, and Master John didn’t pursue it. Leaning his fork against the shed, he said,
“Come thee in and see Sissie”, and he led them toward the house. Before they had chance to cross the yard, a large motherly figure appeared in the open doorway, beaming a welcome.
“Amos, what a surprise. Yer lookin’ well - but who’s this young lass?”
“I’m well Mistress Sissie, this is my friend Ruth”.
Mistress Sissie looked slightly puzzled but said nothing. She turned her large frame sideways and held out her arm, inviting them into the kitchen,
“Come thee in and hae breakfast wi’ us”.
Amos graciously declined breakfast but accepted a warm drink.
“I’ve come to ask if you could find me some work for perhaps a day or two?” he said.
“Well, the hays in and there’s not much to do”, and then after a moment’s hesitation, he rubbed his chin in thoughtful expression and continued, “but come to think o’ it, ar could do wi’ somebody to cetch some moles. The little blighters are starting to mek a mess o’ me hay medders agen”, said Master John. Amos asked Ruth if she would like to have a look around the farm at the animals whilst he organised the day’s work, and Master John added,
“There’s an old sow wi’ a litter in yon shed”, pointing across the yard. Ruth was only too eager and with the farm
