The King's Evil

Sarah Bale could usually discern the cause of her husband's long silences but this time she was baffled. As he put on his coat, Jonathan was tense and preoccupied. She tried once again to initiate a conversation.

'I will be sorry to see them go,' she said. 'We could have had far worse neighbours than the Thorpe family, even with his ranting. It is disgraceful when God-fearing people like them are forced to emigrate.' She clicked her tongue. 'New England! All that way when they have no idea what they will find when they get there. It is frightening, Jonathan. I could never face a journey like that.'

'I could,' he muttered.

'What did you say?'

'Nothing.'

'Why are they leaving? Is there no way to persuade them to stay? Hail-Mary Thorpe is not a robust woman. How will she survive the long voyage? And think of those poor children of theirs.' She shook her head. 'They must be desperate to take such a course as this.' He reached for his hat. 'Do you have no opinion at all to offer?'

'Not tonight, Sarah.'

'Why? What ails you?'

'I have to go.'

'Where? Not back into the river, I hope.'

'No.'

'Then where?'

He gave her a token kiss. 'I will tell you on my return.'

'Is it such a big secret? Surely, you can tell me.' She followed him to the door. 'Jonathan, what is going on? You have hardly said a word to me all evening. I am your wife. What have I done to upset you?'

'Nothing, Sarah.'

'Then why are you so morose? Anybody would think that you were walking off to your own execution. Are you looking forward so little to your duties tonight?'

He opened the door then turned to look back at her.

'Yes,' he confessed. 'I am.'