by Jillian Kent
“I want you to go the Guardian Gate Hospital. Ask for Dr. Langford. Tell him of the smallpox epidemic here and of the attack on Dr. Grayson. Tell him to come quickly. And whatever you do, do not be seen, or Dr. Grayson and I may be in danger. If you do this, you will be richly rewarded. Do you understand?”
The keeper nodded again and went his way.
Madeline made her way through the maze of patients. Finally she reached the main door. No guard. She tried the latch. It lifted silently, allowing her access to the corridor. Sullivan’s office door was open.
Madeline’s heart raced. Perhaps she could find concrete proof of Sullivan’s evil doings—proof that would stand up in court. She went to the door and hesitated for just a moment to gather her courage. She stepped into the office. Seeing no one about, she quietly pushed the door closed.
The room was a mess. Dirty dishes covered the desk, and papers were scattered about like straw in a stable. The sun gleamed on a shiny object lying on the floor partially concealed by a piece of paper. She tiptoed to the spot and knelt down.
“Lord help us.” She stared at a letter opener covered with dried blood—Ravensmoore’s blood! A wave of fear washed over her. She struggled to stand up, her knees wobbly.
Suddenly the door crashed open. Amos Sullivan stood staring at her.
“Ah, here you are!” Sullivan asked. “You appear to be lost, my dear. This is not where you belong.”
“It was you. You stabbed Ravensmoore. But why?”
“Because he knows too much. He will ruin everything if he leaves here alive, and I am going to make sure he doesn’t.” Sullivan’s features twisted into a mask of hatred. “And now you also know too much. I’m afraid I cannot ignore that fact.”
“What evil do you plot now?”
“I believe you have met my two trusted employees.” Two men stepped into the room—the men who had held her under in the cold bath. Her blood chilled.
Sullivan pointed first to the big man. “Hugh, subdue her.” To the smaller man he said, “Thomas, take her to the pit. And make sure she stays there a good long time.”
“No! Leave me alone!” She picked up an inkwell and threw it at Hugh. It hit him in the chest, and the black liquid soaked the front of his dirty brown shirt, spreading like the evil that lived in him.
Movement at the window caught her attention. Simon! He ducked beneath the windowsill, but her glance did not go unnoticed by Sullivan.
“Thomas, get the dwarf,” Sullivan instructed. “Bring him to me.”
Madeline picked up a book and hurled it at Hugh. “Get away from me!” The book bounced off him. She threw another and then another as he stalked her.
He lunged at her. Madeline screamed. She dodged his advance and ran to the door, only to watch it shut, inches in front of her, with a shove from Sullivan. She bit his hand and grabbed the doorknob. Hugh was upon her in a flash.
“Let me go!” Madeline kicked and scratched him, but Hugh was too big and far too strong.
Sullivan laughed. “I will get word to Vale of your disobedience.”
Madeline immediately went still. “No! He’ll hurt my mother.”
“You should have considered that prior to entering my office uninvited.”
“Wait! You can’t do this.” She bit Hugh’s hand hard, drawing blood. He swore and twisted her arm behind her back. In desperation, Madeline screamed, a high-pitched shriek, hoping Mrs. Sharpe would hear her. Hugh grabbed her other arm and tied them together at the wrists.
“Get her out of here.” Sullivan stuck a gag in her mouth.
Hugh hoisted her over his beefy shoulder as if she were a sack of grain. She stiffened with fear and tried to scream again, but only a muffled sound came from her throat. Blood rushed to her head. Not being able to breathe through her mouth forced her to inhale his loathsome scent. He smelled as though he’d rolled in pig manure.
Hugh strode through a dark, musty passageway.
“You’re in no position to argue now, are ye?” Hugh laughed. Madeline thought she would vomit but for the gag in her mouth. She pushed against his shoulder and kicked her legs, hoping to throw him off balance, but he held her tight, his laugh echoing through the narrow passage.
As they descended the stairs, he slowed to maintain his balance in the narrow passage, then stopped. Squeaking hinges and a smell worse than Hugh assaulted her senses. Madeline saw a single torch burning in the room and hastily studied her surroundings.
He dumped her on the ground. She hit against something hard and smooth behind her. Madeline turned to see a bamboo cage, its door hanging open like the mouth of a hungry animal.
“Get up,” Hugh commanded, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking her to her feet.
Tears stung Madeline’s eyes. What would happen to Ravensmoore if she couldn’t get away? What would happen to all of them if the message didn’t reach Dr. Langford?
Hugh untied her hands, and she quickly rubbed them together to lessen the pain of blood filling her numb fingers. She removed the gag from her mouth and thought she would do almost anything for a few drops of water. “Water.” The word sounded barely audible to her own ears.
“Get in the cage,” Hugh ordered, ignoring her request.
Madeline kicked him hard in the knee. “Never!” She scrambled to her feet and ran toward the passage.
Hugh tackled her to the ground. “You witch!”
Madeline rammed her elbow into his face. “Let me go, you monster!”
Suddenly her head jerked backward. Hugh roared, “I’ll let you rot!” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the cage, throwing her inside.
Madeline fell against the bamboo as though she were a rag doll. The door slammed shut. She winced at the pain in her arm. “Don’t do this!”
“I got me orders. I get paid right well to follow them. Hold on tight, me lady,” he said, sneering at her. “You’ll be going for a brief ride.” Hugh began turning a hidden lever. The cage jolted into the air, smashing her against the other side of the cage.
“Let me out!” Madeline yelled, hoping he would stop but knowing he would not. She hung suspended in the cage in the middle of the dimly lit, desolate room. Madeline watched as Hugh secured the lever and moved underneath her. “What are you doing? Let me out of here!”
“I will return later. You will beg me to get you out of the pit by then. You will do anything I ask. Anything at all.”
She watched in horror as Hugh removed a rusting metal grate beneath her. “You must not do this!” Madeline gripped the bars of the cage and shook the door. “You will not get away with this.”
Hugh chuckled. “Welcome to the pit, dearie. We reserve this room for our most special patients.” He returned to the lever on the wall and began to lower the cage.
Madeline watched in horror as she descended into the dark abyss.
CHAPTER 21
If it were not for Hopes, the Heart would break.
—THOMAS FULLER, MD,
GNOMOLOGIA, No. 2689
MADELINE GRITTED HER teeth and tried to rattle open the door of her cage. Her dislike of mice and insects lost to her fear of close spaces. She swallowed hard and tried not to think about what crawled under her neck and over her belly. But for all her effort she found escape impossible. Even if she had been able to escape the cage, she doubted she would be able to scale the walls of the pit.
She stood and brushed furiously at her neck and clothing. Madeline knew that in order to survive, she could not stay here long. The confined space stole her breath; she refused to let it steal her sanity or her life. She had to have food and water. “You can’t leave me here!” she yelled, hoping someone would hear her. “Help me!” She fought back a wave of panic and hit the walls with her fists. “Please, Lord. Help me.”
Then she surrendered to all the emotions that she’d tried to ward off: fear, anger, and hopelessness. She sobbed and then she prayed. She prayed that God would protect Ravensmoore from those who wished him harm. She prayed that Dr. Langford would drop
everything and come quickly. She prayed for her mother. And she prayed for her rescue.
Her tears and melancholia over the last year were nothing compared to this. She was indeed cast into the pit. And the cruel and distant God who’d sent so much trouble her way was now her only hope. She had no choice but to turn to Him.
After hours, or what felt like hours later, the door to her prison in the above room squeaked. Hugh!
“Please let me out of here.” He was coming back to keep his promises. The thought of him made her skin crawl. If I can get out, perhaps I can outwit him. Her heart leaped with the hope. The grate above her scraped back, the sound echoing in the chamber. The lever creaked and strained above her head, and she felt the cage sway as it rose. She surfaced swiftly and hung suspended above the pit. Madeline squinted into the torchlight. “Who’s there?” She heard the grate above the hole slide roughly back in place. “Answer me.” The cage lowered slowly to the grate. It was not Hugh who awaited her but someone much larger than her captor.
“Who are you?” She forced the words from her throat as the giant drew near. Madeline’s hand covered her mouth, stifling a scream. She prayed the end would be quick, for there was no way she could escape this giant of a man. Madeline stared at his bulging eye but refused to cave in to the torrent of emotions that gripped her.
Opening the cage, he reached inside for Madeline and gently pulled her out.
“I will not harm you. Come.” He gestured, and she followed, stumbling behind, as he led her away from the pit and up a staircase to a secluded room.
“You rest,” he commanded, and disappeared through the door.
She sat on the floor, forcing herself to be calm, and breathed in great gulps of air that didn’t smell of the pit. She had no idea where she was or who it was who had carried her away from her prison, but she was grateful. “Thank You, God. Thank You for sending this man.”
Madeline pushed herself off the floor. Her legs trembled, but she leaned against the wall for support until she felt steady. Looking around the small room, she noticed a tiny window, through which she spotted a red-streaked sky. So it must be evening.
She crept out of the secluded room into the silent hallway. Moving through it she found herself near the cold baths where Hugh and Thomas had nearly drowned her. “Ravensmoore,” she whispered aloud. She headed in the direction of the makeshift infirmary, watching and praying that Hugh and Thomas were not around the next corner waiting to capture her and return her to the pit.
Fortunately Madeline spied Mrs. Sharpe. Suddenly the strain of her ordeal overwhelmed her, and she began to weep.
Mrs. Sharpe hurried toward her. “What is it, my dear? What’s happened?”
Madeline struggled to gain control of her emotions, but the tears continued to flow. Mrs. Sharpe put a comforting arm around her and led her to a chair in a small room away from the stares and the voices of the insane. Pulling a rumpled handkerchief from her skirt pocket, she offered it to Madeline.
“I went to Sullivan’s office,” Madeline said, forcing herself to concentrate and not fall apart. “He’s the one who stabbed Dr. Grayson. He ordered Thomas to confine me to the pit, and that is where I have been.”
“Lord protect us,” Mrs. Sharpe whispered. “I knew he wasn’t trustworthy, and I’ve heard rumors, but I never thought he would stoop so low as to dance with the devil himself. How did you get out?”
“A horribly disfigured giant rescued me. He must be one of the patients.”
Mrs. Sharpe nodded. “I know exactly who it was. His name is Andrew Wiggins. You’re fortunate. You might still be in that horrid place if not for him. And thankfully I saw Hugh, Thomas, and Sullivan leave not too long ago, so you are safe for now.”
Madeline wiped at her eyes and looked at Mrs. Sharpe. “How is Dr. Grayson? Is he bleeding again?”
“No. The stitches are holding well. He has been sleeping, but I am sure he will ask for you as soon as he awakes.”
“I must get back to him, Mrs. Sharpe. He will tell us what to do next.”
She nodded. “I will go with you.”
Devlin woke at the sound of voices. “Here he is, Dr. Langford.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sharpe. You may leave us now.”
Devlin blinked and rubbed his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of his teacher, lantern in hand, staring down at him over his spectacles. “Dr. Langford, thank God.”
“Ravensmoore, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into now? Let me take a look at you.”
Langford motioned for Devlin to turn over so he could check his wound. He removed the bandages and traced his finger along the stitching. “Nice stitching,” he observed, wrapping the wound once again. “Be sure you rest easy at least another day. We’ll have to watch for infection, and you’re certain to be stiff and sore for quite a while.” He motioned for Devlin to lie back, then pulled up a stool next to the bed.
“I have brought the law,” he said simply. “First Mr. Melton tells me that Lady Madeline Whittington was brought here against her will, and then one of the keepers shows up with word that you’ve been stabbed. They are looking for Sullivan now.”
“But what of the epidemic?” Devlin asked. “Will you be able to stay and help? I must help—there are too many ill.”
Langford interrupted. “Better to work when you gain a bit of strength tomorrow than to collapse tonight. I will take over now, and we’ll reassess your situation in the morning. Try not to break the stitches open.”
Devlin sighed. “I have never seen so much death in one place.” He raised himself up to a sitting position and winced.
Langford pushed his glasses up on his nose and rested his gaze on Devlin. “Death is never easy. Watching someone die is heartbreaking, unless you can do something to ease their pain. A simple touch of the hand is sometimes a better cure than all that medicine has to offer.”
He folded his arms, regarding Devlin with something akin to curiosity.
“So, are you going to tell me why you left the profession? You were my best student, Ravensmoore. I can tell from your work here that you were paying attention.” Langford looked at him over those infernal glasses, waiting for an answer.
Devlin looked away. “I had other more pressing issues. Personal issues. I thought I would lose the woman I loved if I didn’t give up my work.” He squeezed his right hand into a fist. “I had doubts. I’ve been wrestling with God and my calling. Or at least what I thought was my calling.”
“And now?” Langford repeated, pressing for more.
“I have much to consider, Dr. Langford. For one thing, I have just discovered my mother alive in this wretched place, held against her will for ten years.” He quickly filled Langford in on the story, then asked, “Will you check on her for me? She is quite ill.”
Langford’s face had turned stormy as Devlin told his story. “I always thought there was something wrong with Sullivan,” he muttered. “Of course I will look after your mother.”
“She’s at the west end of the asylum with the others who are infected.”
Just then Devlin heard footsteps hurrying down the hallway. Madeline and Mrs. Sharpe came into the room, and Madeline went straight to Devlin’s side. “How are you?”
“Better.” Feasting his eyes on her, he noticed new rips in her clothing and fresh tear streaks against a dirty face. What new horrors had she endured while he’d been sleeping?
She turned to his teacher. “Dr. Langford! I am so glad to see you. We are in desperate need of your help.” Quickly she told her story— of confronting Sullivan, of being captured and taken to the pit.
Devlin listened intently. Rage claimed his heart with each detail she revealed. “Where are the cowards?” he demanded. “They must be stopped and confined until the authorities can lock them up.”
“I saw all three of them leaving Ashcroft not too long ago,” Mrs. Sharpe said.
Dr. Langford cleared his throat. “They must have heard that the law was coming. A
nd their escape could mean the epidemic will spread wherever they go. Does anyone know if they were vaccinated?” He peered over his glasses at the assembled group.
Devlin leaned forward and winced again when the stitches grabbed him. “If Sullivan had the nerve to come into the asylum and stab me, then he must be very desperate. When I arrived here, he was terrified of being exposed. He said he had not been vaccinated.”
Madeline nodded in agreement and then turned her attention to Mrs. Sharpe. “Do you have any idea how long Hugh and Thomas have been employed here?”
“Not more than a year.”
Simon entered the room. “Yes, yes, not more than a year. The louts.” He made a fist and punched the air.
“Chances are they were never vaccinated,” Langford said. “We must assume the worst. I will notify the authorities to be on the lookout for them.” He looked at the dwarf with interest, then turned to Mrs. Sharpe. “Is there anyone here we could trust to help with the search—someone who could identify these men?”
Simon jumped up and down, waving his hand. “Me! Me! Oh, send me!”
Mrs. Sharpe gave him a wry look then turned to Langford. “Simon has his quirks, but I do think he could be of help to a search party.”
“Simon.” Madeline knelt and held her hands out to him.
“Yes, Mad Maddie?” Simon glanced at Devlin, pleased with the attention.
Devlin smiled in spite of the situation and the pain in his arm. Simon was obviously smitten with Maddie.
“What you are doing is very brave. Thank you.” She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. A deep shade of crimson inched up his neck and face. “Thank you, Mad Maddie,” he said, holding his hand to his cheek as if to keep the memory of her kiss with him. He turned to Dr. Langford. “I’ll go now!”
Langford nodded. “Devlin, I’ll be back once I’ve talked to the authorities. Stay here and rest for the night.” He left the room, Simon skipping in his wake and Mrs. Sharpe following behind.
Devlin watched them depart. He was glad that Langford had arrived, but he was anxious to have Madeline alone. He turned to her and took her hand, his head bowed. “You could have been killed, and I was useless. Forgive me.”