need: tools, lengths of rope and chain, and several iron pots. As a wedding present, Nancy’s parents had given them an old draught horse to pull the wagon. Lewis hoped the beast could make the journey, for it was sway-backed and tired-looking.
“I just want him to get us there,” Moses said. “If he’s still in decent shape, I’ll keep him for ploughing. Otherwise, I’ll sell both the horse and the wagon and use the money toward stock.”
Nancy’s trousseau chest was full of bolts of cloth and seeds for the kitchen garden, and Betsy had made up a sewing kit for her: thread, needles, scissors, lengths of lace and trim and a paper of pins— none of which had the Lord’s Prayer on them.
Luke was beside himself with anticipation and excitement. This was an adventure he had scarcely dared hope for and he scurried around helping Moses load up the wagon as if he were afraid that some event might intervene that would keep them from setting off after all. Martha was excited, too, mostly because everyone else was, and made a nuisance of herself, getting in the way until Minta swooped down and took her off to play with Henry.
“I’m sorry to see you go,” Lewis said to his youngest son, echoing the words said by Nancy’s father, and Luke had a moment when the anxiety of leaving his family warred with his desire to follow his brother. “You’re a good lad, and I’m sure you’ll make a great success of this enterprise.” The boy reddened at this unexpected praise, and Lewis wished he had given it out more freely in the past. He had spent too much time mourning his girls; he should have looked up and noticed that his boys were becoming men. “There is one thing I want to say before you go.”
He could see that Luke was expecting some admonition, a warning against falling in with bad company perhaps, or a caution to be careful with his money, and so his surprise was almost comical when Lewis said, “I know it hasn’t always been easy being my son. I know it was hard moving all the time and not ever having any money and having so much expected of you because you’re the preacher’s son. And I just want to let you know that I understand that, and I thank you for turning into such a fine young man in spite of it all. Your mother and I are very proud of you.”
Luke blinked back a few tears and smiled.
Lewis felt he had no need for similar words when it came to Moses — he had received the blessing he craved on the day he had announced he was going west. He merely wished the boy good luck and, at the last moment, thrust a letter into his pocket. “It’s for Will,” he said. “And Nabby.”
Moses looked wary and Lewis laughed. “It’s all right. It’s not a tirade. I’m just opening the door a crack.”
It had taken him nearly an hour to compose the short letter. He was a man from whom words flowed easily as a rule, and yet his emotions on this topic were so complex and confused that he found it difficult to summarize them into any sort of coherent statement. In the end, he kept it short, and hoped that it would be received in the same spirit that it was offered:
My Dear Will and Nabby,
I sincerely regret the terms on which we parted and I would like to proffer my apologies for any offence I may have given. I am unwilling to let our differences of opinion come between us any longer, and I would like, at the very least, to see a restoration of communication within our family. Your mother and I are anxious to know how you are getting on.
If there is any way in which I can assist you, now or in the future, I hope you will not hesitate to call upon me.
With great love,
Your father
The letter cost him dearly in terms of his pride, and he feared it would quite probably cost him money in the future, but he was determined to make peace with his eldest son. He would let this boil fester no longer.
V
The brick house in Belleville was shuttered and empty when they rode past. He knew that the Simms family had removed themselves to Kingston after selling off a great number of their belongings, for Sally, the girl who had taken up with Spicer, reported it all in great detail.
“They went without giving me the last of my wages,” she said. “I was tempted to set the law on them, but they were such a sorry looking lot that I didn’t have the heart.”
Lewis felt that Sally was the perfect match for Spicer. She was rough in speech and manner, but a hard worker and a generous soul. She teased him mercilessly in a good-natured way, and Morgan would sputter and protest until he realized that she was joking with him, and for a time his too-serious demeanour would lift a little.
She had already found another position with a family that needed help with their heavy tasks — the laundry and the scrubbing — and the woman she worked for was instructing her in the kitchen. It was obvious that Morgan adored Sally, and she him, and she confided to Lewis that they were just waiting until he received his appointment and she had saved a little more money, and then they would be asking him to officiate at their marriage ceremony. Lewis had no doubt that this would take place in the not-too-distant future. Spicer had proved himself, and with a little more instruction, Lewis would have no hesitation in recommending him to be received on trial.
Even though the sun was barely above the horizon in the morning sky, there was already a crowd gathered around the jail. Hangings were popular affairs, and like most, this one would be held in the open air to afford onlookers an excellent view. The yard had already been staked out, blankets were spread, and chairs had been brought in. Whole families had been hunkered down in these spots since the previous evening, and small children ran back and forth while their parents anchored the seats. It was a field day for merchants of all descriptions — food and beverage were being hawked, mementos of the occasion had been hastily manufactured and were offered for sale, small bibles and books were in great demand. Lewis thought wryly of the Caddicks’ pins. It was a shame they were no longer making them. They would have done a brisk business on a day such as this.
He left his horse with Spicer and shouldered his way through the crowd. Three constables were stationed at the door to the jail, turning away those attempting to get inside. Some had good reason to demand admittance — there were several newspapers represented — but most were simply the morbidly curious or the seekers of notoriety who wanted to claim a special connection with the hanged man that they could parlay into a fleeting fame or, far more likely, a few drinks at the tavern.
One of the constables recognized Lewis. “Are you here to offer comfort, Preacher?” he asked.
Lewis nodded. There was no reason to add that the comfort would be his own, not Simms’s. The constable opened the door and let him slip through, to the roaring disapproval of the mob gathered outside.
Simms seemed to be himself, the affable peddler, again, and quite aware of what was about to happen. It was hard to believe that this calm, pleasant-looking man was a convicted murderer. He looked up as Lewis entered.
“Lewis. Good of you to come. Thank you.”
“Are you prepared for this, Isaac?”
“Yes. There’s been a minister — Anglican, of course — and I’ve received as much comfort as I can expect to get from that quarter. To tell the truth, I just want it over with. All of it. I want it ended.”
“This is only the first of the accountings you’ll have to make, I’m afraid.”
Simms nodded. “I know. I’ll speak before they hoist me. That’s a good first step, I think.”
