Read Online Midsummer's Eve by Philippa Carr - Free Book Online

not by the so-called witch but by the evil of those who had killed her.
    There was a subdued air in the town. The hot sun beat down on the fourteenth-century bridge which crossed the river near the quay and where the boats were moored. There had never been another Midsummer’s Day like this.
    One of the fishermen sat on an upturned boat mending his nets.
    “Good day,” we said.
    “Good day, Mr. Jacco, Miss Annora.”
    He was intent on his nets. Everyone seemed less loquacious than usual.
    Jacco said: “So there was a fire last night?”
    “Oh, aye. So ’tis said.”
    I thought: Where were you last night, Tom Fellows? Were you one of those who tormented that old woman? You were there perhaps, waving your torch, setting that home on fire. It may not have been your torch which lit the fire, but you are all guilty, all the same … every one of you who let it happen.
    “Mother Ginny’s cottage was burned down,” said Jacco.
    “Oh, aye, so ’tis said.”
    “And she was in it.”
    “So they’m telling me.”
    “It’s a terrible thing,” I said.
    “’Tis so, Miss Annora.”
    “And,” demanded Jacco, “what of the boy Digory?”
    “Don’t ’ee ask me, Mr. Jacco. I know naught.”
    I thought: That is what they will all say. They know naught. They are all ashamed. They are all going to pretend they were not there.
    We moved on. We spoke to some of the others and it was the same with them all. They had all heard of it and it was a terrible thing to have happened—even to a witch, some added.
    I said angrily to Jacco: “They are all going to plead innocence.”
    “The guilty always do.”
    “There were a lot of them in the woods last night.”
    “They will all say they were on the moor or the quay or in their beds.”
    To all of them we mentioned Digory. Nobody called him the Varmint now. They believed he had been in the cottage and died with his grandmother. That certain respect which was due to the dead was accorded him.
    “He’ll be safe in the Dogs’ Home,” I said. “They think he’s dead.”
    “We’ll keep him there.”
    “Till our father comes home,” I added.
    I waited two days before I tried to see Rolf. I could not imagine what I should say to him if we came face to face. I had always felt there was a special understanding between us—but that was over now. I blamed him more than I did people like Mrs. Penlock. They were ignorant. He was not. He was clever; he had incited the people to behave as they did. Why? Perhaps he wanted to experiment. He wanted to see how close people of today were to their ancestors. He wanted to discover how far a modern mob would go in its savagery. I had always understood his desire for learning; but this was sheer callousness.
    I could never forget it and whenever I saw him I would remember him in the midst of that crowd … urging them on.
    But I had to talk to him. I rode without Jacco to Dorey Manor.
    How grand it was becoming! It lacked the antiquity of Cador but it had stood there for three hundred years—just a Manor House, but the woods were now extensive and my father had said they must have almost as many pheasants as we had at Cador.
    But I was not interested in these matters at the moment.
    I rode into the stables and left my horse with the groom as I always did. Then I went to the house. I pulled the bell at the side of the iron-studded door and a maid appeared.
    “Oh good afternoon, Miss Annora. I’ll tell the master you are here.”
    I went into the hall with its linen-fold panelling so beautifully restored. Shortly afterwards I was mounting the wooden staircase decorated with Tudor roses of which Rolf was so proud. I was ushered into the drawing room and Mr. Hanson came forward to greet me.
    “My dear Annora, this is a pleasure. Have you come to have a cup of tea with me?”
    “That would be nice, thank you.”
    He turned to the maid who had brought me up. “We’ll have some tea please, Annie,” he said. Then: “There, my dear. Sit