Page 90 of The Witch

I look over at Jonas, who does not pay any mind to the deputy. He is gathering the straw from my bed into his arms.

“Reeve!” Strickland barks. “Let me out of here at once!”

Jonas does not respond to that, but he does chuckle as he brings the arm full of straw out of my cell and drops it on the floor outside. Then he goes back inside to grab some more.

“Mistress Eldridge!” Strickland decides to appeal to me instead. “You are not going to let a murderer get loose from the jail?”

I do not know what to say to this. I sincerely doubt I could stop him if I tried.

“You are no witch!” Strickland’s voice has taken on a desperate edge. “We both know you’re not. If you help me—if you let me out—I shall confer with Magistrate Putman. I will tell him I got it wrong. I will convince him you are not a witch and that the townspeople were mistaken in their accusations.”

“He will do no such thing,” Jonas says with maddening certainty. “If you let him out of that cell, he will do everything in his power to ensure you hang tomorrow.” He drops another load of straw on the floor and dangles the key ring in the air. “Besides, even if you desired to grant him his freedom, I possess the keys.”

“We shall seek you out!” Strickland shouts at Jonas. “Do you believe you will be able to conceal yourself? Nay! We shall scour the land until we have found you, and we will hold you accountable for every single one of your misdeeds.”

“They may find me,” Jonas concedes. “But you will not.”

With those words, he picks up the torch that is mounted on the wall. He lowers it in the direction of the bed of straw he has created outside my cell. I take a step back, horrified by what is about to happen.

Strickland’s eyes bulge as he too realizes what Jonas means to do. “No!” he screams. “Do not do this! Spare me!”

Jonas pauses for a moment, the torch clutched in his right hand. “Why should I spare you? You were willing to sign the death warrant of Mistress Eldridge here based on lies.”

“I am sorry!” Tears leap into Strickland’s eyes as he falls to his knees. “I will repent! I swear it!”

“It is far too late for that,” Jonas says.

“Mistress Eldridge!” Strickland is pinning all his hopes on me now, his fingers laced together as he pleads with me. “You do not want to do this. This man is a killer, but you are not. You are a virtuous, God-fearing woman, and you do not want to journey down this perilous path.”

Out of everything he has said, this is the truest. How can I allow Jonas to kill this man? It goes against everything I believe in. Even after all Strickland has done to me, it is unthinkable.

“Pray, do not harm him,” I plead with Jonas. “Verily, he has sinned. But that does not give us the right to claim his life. We are not God.”

Jonas straightens up, the torch lowered in his hand. His eyes do not have that glint of evil I have seen in them before. Instead, he looks tired yet determined.

“I will not kill him,” he says, “because he has sinned.”

“Thank you, good sir,” Strickland breathes. “You are doing the right thing by God.”

Jonas ignores Strickland, his eyes locked with mine. “I will kill him because if we do not, Caroline, we will never remain free. If we burn this jailhouse down with him inside, the townsfolk will think we died here too.”

With those words, he lowers his torch to the mound of straw, which instantly ignites. It is clear that in a matter of seconds, the entire cellar will be aflame.

“Help me!” Strickland howls. He is back on his feet, clutching the bars of the cage as if he might bend them with his mighty strength. “Release me from this cell!”

“Come with me, Caroline.” Jonas’s voice is low and urgent. “Now. We have little time to waste.”

Strickland has released the bars, which are likely growing hot from the rapidly spreading fire. He cowers in the corner of the cell as the flames lick at the metal. It won’t be long before they overcome him.

Even if I wanted to save him, I could not.

“We must go.” Jonas grabs my arm, and I realize that this is his expression of true panic. What I saw before when he was accusing me of witchcraft was an act. “I swore to Hitty I would take you with me.”

I have two choices. I can stay in this cellar and perish to the sounds of Strickland’s screams of agony. Or I can follow an evil man who has choked the life out of at least four women and live.

So I follow Jonas up the stairs.

By the time we reach the top, I can still hear Deputy Strickland screaming. But then the cries become muffled, and as Jonas pushes open the door to the first floor, the screams cease altogether. When I look over my shoulder, the entire cellar is consumed in flames. Jonas closes the door to the cellar behind him.