The Masque of a Murderer by Susanna Calkins Read Free Book Online

her out of the room.
    “Wilt thou tend Brother Jacob while we tend to Esther?” Joan asked Lucy. “Perhaps he will take some restorative soup, although I fear he may be in too much pain for that. One of us will be back shortly.”
    When they left, Lucy sat in the chair that Sarah had vacated. “I am so sorry this happened to you,” Lucy whispered to the man lying on the bed. “Though I am not a Quaker, I do believe God will forgive you for your sins. If you are in pain, perhaps you must let go.”
    To her surprise, Jacob opened his eyes again and looked straight at her, no hint of the great anger she had just witnessed. Speaking carefully, he said, “I must tell thee. There was a reason that I summoned Sarah and Adam to my side.”
    “They were your dear friends,” Lucy said, trying to sound reassuring.
    “Yes, that is so. And I have my regrets, especially for a falling-out that we had several years ago. Youthful indiscretions.” He made a rueful sound. “I had hoped to speak to Adam, but perhaps thou canst help me.” He clutched at her hand frantically.
    Seeing this, Lucy grew alarmed. Perhaps his time was closing in. “Shh,” she tried to soothe the man. Whatever potion he had been taking seemed to be wearing off. She looked about. A small vial lay on the table next to his bed; she picked it up and worked the tight cork out. Passing it under her nose, she breathed in the deep pungent aroma of the restorative. She poured a few drops onto a spoon. “This would taste better in some soup.”
    The man shuddered in pain again. “No soup,” he said faintly. “Just that.”
    Lucy held the spoon to his lips and dribbled a few drops into his mouth. “Maybe I should call your wife back? So that she can be with you when—” She did not finish the thought.
    “Listen to me,” he repeated, swallowing with difficulty. He seemed to be trying to sit up, to get closer to her. His voice began to drop, forcing Lucy to put her head down so that his mouth was against her ear. “I must tell thee something, and there may not be much time. I do not know whom to trust. I wanted to talk to Adam. Oh, why didn’t Adam come? And Sarah, I hardly know her now.”
    “You are getting very excited. Perhaps you should lie still—”
    “Listen to me. Thou must tell Adam. He will know what to do. Dost thou understand?”
    Fearful of the man’s intensity, Lucy managed to nod.
    “I was pushed in front of that cart,” Jacob whispered. “Deliberately. Someone wanted me to die.”
    Lucy froze. Had she heard him correctly? Surely the man’s wits were addled. “No, sir. That couldn’t be. It was dark, foggy. Maybe someone bumped into you and—”
    “No,” Jacob interrupted. His speech was labored and was growing more difficult to understand. “I was pushed. I did not trip. I was not jostled. Someone put two hands on my back and pushed me straight into those horses.” His face contorted as he remembered the horrors of the accident.
    Against her better judgment Lucy felt moved to believe him, even though what he was saying terrified her. “Who would do such a dreadful thing?” she whispered. “Did you see who pushed you?”
    “No, I could barely see anything in that wretched fog. But I have an idea.” Another paroxysm of pain passed over his body.
    “Who was it? Someone you know?”
    “Yes, I believe so. I had received a letter from my sister, Julia.” He stopped to cough a bit. Lucy winced as a bit of bloody spittle trickled from his mouth. “We’d still managed to exchange letters, even though my father had cast me from the house.”
    “Yes? What did she tell you?” She wiped his chin.
    Another deep pain ran over the man. “She said she had received information that one of the Quakers in our group is an impostor.” He paused, licking his dry lips. “Water.”
    Lucy held a cup up to his mouth. “Who? Who was she talking about?”
    He took a tortured sip and continued. “She didn’t want to write more in the