bought a
broken wheelbarrow.’
‘Whatever for? We already have two behind the cart shed.’
Gillow released Jenny into the paddock.
Martha stomped down the garden path. ‘Gillow, the yard is
full of rubbish. Why ever do you want to come home with more?’
‘It isn’t rubbish. Guess.’
Eppie clambered onto the cart to examine the machine. ‘Is it
a broken spinning wheel?’
‘Nop! It’s a spinning jenny. I bought it for next to nothing
from Cartwright’s, hardware dealer. It’s years old, from a domestic workshop,
but it’s got a bit of life left in it.’ Playfully, he ruffled Eppie’s hair.
‘Like me, hey!’
Eppie squeezed the spindles, pretending to milk the cow.
‘Why are there eight?’
‘So your ma can spin eight threads at once. I’ll get it
indoors. She can give it a whirl.’
‘You can’t! You’ll wake the prisoner.’
‘Prisoner!’
‘It’s only Mister Sam.’
A surge of blood flooded Gillow’s cheeks. ‘I come back and
find you entertaining prisoners?’
Martha gave a short laugh. ‘We’re not entertaining and
there’s only one!’
‘What difference is there? I don’t want Scattergood or any
other prisoner in my home. You have disobeyed me, Martha. I am ashamed of you.’
‘Jaggery bashed Mister Sam on the head with a spade,’ Eppie
piped up.
‘Jaggery must have been sorely provoked. Why else would he
hit Scattergood? Ask yourselves that. More to the point, why should we be
expected to look after one of them? That’s the guards’ job.’
Martha began, ‘I thought … ’
‘It seems to me, Martha, that you do not do a lot of
thinking. You must not be in two minds about this sort of thing. At times you
are far too weak-willed. Now they’ve got us down as an easy target they’ll be demanding
all sorts of things off us. I’m going to turn him out.’ He marched off.
Eppie tugged the bottom of his jacket. ‘Let him be, Pa. He
saved Twiss.’
Gillow stopped. ‘I’m all for being neighbourly, Martha, but
these sorts of people are sinful and must be punished. I will not have him
defiling my home.’
‘He isn’t well enough to go back to work.’
Gillow eyed his wife suspiciously. ‘Why should you care
whether he is fit or not?’
Eppie stared into their faces, realising that they, too, had
caught the rhythmical rap-rap of Gillow’s weaving loom.
‘What the?’ Gillow stormed indoors.
Peering around his straddled legs, Eppie saw Sam seated at
the loom.
‘I hope you don’t mind, sir? It is long since I have done
any. I used to live a lot like you.’
Gillow was stumped. ‘Well, er …’ He straightened his back so
that, to Eppie, his head appeared to reach the rafters. ‘Seeing as how you’re
on the mend, I’d be obliged if you’d kindly leave. Now!’
‘Of course. I never wished to impose. Though, forgive me,
before I go, I would value the opportunity to tell you a little about my
so-called crime.’
‘I don’t need no account.’
‘With all due respect, sir, even if you do not care to
listen, I feel that I owe your wife and daughter an explanation. I saw fear in
their eyes, yet they showed me compassion. I would like them to understand me a
little.
‘My father was a farm labourer. On his deathbed, he made
Lewis, my elder brother, and I, promise that we’d better ourselves. We worked
hard, half-starved, saved. Eventually, we were able to rent a parcel of land, with
a small cottage, outside of Malstowe. All was going well until I met a lady by
far my social superior.
‘Our love led to her becoming with child. We were determined
to marry, to accept the hardships we would face together. Her parents were
dead. Her grandfather scoffed at my poverty and would not give his blessing to
our marriage. One day she came to warn me that soldiers were on their way to
arrest me. I had no choice other than to flee. Tormented by love, never could I
forget her. In his letter, her grandfather agreed to our betrothal and, like
broken wheelbarrow.’
‘Whatever for? We already have two behind the cart shed.’
Gillow released Jenny into the paddock.
Martha stomped down the garden path. ‘Gillow, the yard is
full of rubbish. Why ever do you want to come home with more?’
‘It isn’t rubbish. Guess.’
Eppie clambered onto the cart to examine the machine. ‘Is it
a broken spinning wheel?’
‘Nop! It’s a spinning jenny. I bought it for next to nothing
from Cartwright’s, hardware dealer. It’s years old, from a domestic workshop,
but it’s got a bit of life left in it.’ Playfully, he ruffled Eppie’s hair.
‘Like me, hey!’
Eppie squeezed the spindles, pretending to milk the cow.
‘Why are there eight?’
‘So your ma can spin eight threads at once. I’ll get it
indoors. She can give it a whirl.’
‘You can’t! You’ll wake the prisoner.’
‘Prisoner!’
‘It’s only Mister Sam.’
A surge of blood flooded Gillow’s cheeks. ‘I come back and
find you entertaining prisoners?’
Martha gave a short laugh. ‘We’re not entertaining and
there’s only one!’
‘What difference is there? I don’t want Scattergood or any
other prisoner in my home. You have disobeyed me, Martha. I am ashamed of you.’
‘Jaggery bashed Mister Sam on the head with a spade,’ Eppie
piped up.
‘Jaggery must have been sorely provoked. Why else would he
hit Scattergood? Ask yourselves that. More to the point, why should we be
expected to look after one of them? That’s the guards’ job.’
Martha began, ‘I thought … ’
‘It seems to me, Martha, that you do not do a lot of
thinking. You must not be in two minds about this sort of thing. At times you
are far too weak-willed. Now they’ve got us down as an easy target they’ll be demanding
all sorts of things off us. I’m going to turn him out.’ He marched off.
Eppie tugged the bottom of his jacket. ‘Let him be, Pa. He
saved Twiss.’
Gillow stopped. ‘I’m all for being neighbourly, Martha, but
these sorts of people are sinful and must be punished. I will not have him
defiling my home.’
‘He isn’t well enough to go back to work.’
Gillow eyed his wife suspiciously. ‘Why should you care
whether he is fit or not?’
Eppie stared into their faces, realising that they, too, had
caught the rhythmical rap-rap of Gillow’s weaving loom.
‘What the?’ Gillow stormed indoors.
Peering around his straddled legs, Eppie saw Sam seated at
the loom.
‘I hope you don’t mind, sir? It is long since I have done
any. I used to live a lot like you.’
Gillow was stumped. ‘Well, er …’ He straightened his back so
that, to Eppie, his head appeared to reach the rafters. ‘Seeing as how you’re
on the mend, I’d be obliged if you’d kindly leave. Now!’
‘Of course. I never wished to impose. Though, forgive me,
before I go, I would value the opportunity to tell you a little about my
so-called crime.’
‘I don’t need no account.’
‘With all due respect, sir, even if you do not care to
listen, I feel that I owe your wife and daughter an explanation. I saw fear in
their eyes, yet they showed me compassion. I would like them to understand me a
little.
‘My father was a farm labourer. On his deathbed, he made
Lewis, my elder brother, and I, promise that we’d better ourselves. We worked
hard, half-starved, saved. Eventually, we were able to rent a parcel of land, with
a small cottage, outside of Malstowe. All was going well until I met a lady by
far my social superior.
‘Our love led to her becoming with child. We were determined
to marry, to accept the hardships we would face together. Her parents were
dead. Her grandfather scoffed at my poverty and would not give his blessing to
our marriage. One day she came to warn me that soldiers were on their way to
arrest me. I had no choice other than to flee. Tormented by love, never could I
forget her. In his letter, her grandfather agreed to our betrothal and, like
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