by Cathy Bryant
Hearing the door, Mr. Swyndhurst and Martha turned. They hadn’t noticed that Sarah had given up and returned to the house. As she entered the kitchen, she observed her husband and Martha standing by the window. Surmising they had witnessed her failure, she shrugged and left the room.
“She must feel so defeated,” sighed Martha. “Perhaps one of us could accompany her. With one of us by her side, she might actually do it.”
Shaking his head, Mr. Swyndhurst countered, “No, Martha. She must wish to do this on her own, or she would have already asked one of us to go with her.”
“Or she may simply be too embarrassed to have anyone else see her fail. If we explain that we understand how difficult this is for her, she may not be so concerned with what we shall think of her if she fails, and she might just ask one of us to go with her.”
“Nonetheless, I say we ought to allow her to do this on her own. I think it best, Martha. Please abide by my wishes.”
Nodding, the elderly woman moved toward the counter and began preparing the afternoon meal.
Alexander disliked having to speak in this fashion to his servant-friend, but he knew that with her heart breaking as a result of watching Sarah so encumbered by fear, unless he spoke firmly to her, she might go against his wishes and offer to walk with his wife.
Up in Sarah’s bedchamber, she lay across her bed, angry with herself that she was so terrified of leaving the estate. What is the matter with me? The man is dead! He has no power over me. “Lord, help me to put the dreadful memories of Matthew Raymond behind me. I miss the children so. I have been home nearly a month and have yet to see them.”
After a time of prayer, Sarah rested peacefully until Esther came to fetch her—stating that Martha had prepared something for her to eat. “If you would rather take your meal up here, I shall inform Martha.”
“No…no, that is quite all right, Esther. Please tell Martha that I shall be down directly.” Nodding, Esther went to speak with the head servant to inform her that Sarah would be coming to the kitchen. After Esther had gone, Sarah decided that very soon she needed to speak with her friend to let her know that she was not angry with her for revealing her secret.
After rising to her feet, Sarah ran her hands down over her gown to smooth out the wrinkles. She then pulled the pins from her hair and combed through it. After refastening the pins, she started on her way. As she made her way out of her room, she began to feel a bit flustered at having been seen by Martha and Alexander when she had unsuccessfully attempted to leave the yard. She hoped there would be no mention of it. It was at times like these she wished Esther was taking her meals with them, as Martha had always done. Having her there might distract her husband and Martha from what they had seen.
Alexander met Sarah at the foot of the stairs to escort her to the kitchen. During the meal, Martha and Alexander had conversed with Sarah as though nothing out of the ordinary had even happened. As she had hoped, there was no mention of the event in the yard. She even began to wonder if they had actually seen her failure. Perhaps they were caught up in a conversation, and the fact that it took place near the window was just a coincidence, she thought.
It was Worship day. As usual, Alexander had gone to church alone. Besides the fact that Sarah hadn’t been well enough since their return from Boston, now that she was much stronger, she had been reluctant to go, for she feared everyone’s questions. After the service, Alexander approached Reverend March to inquire whether the busy pastor had time to meet with him during the week.
“Certainly, Alexander. Or perhaps as soon as everyone has gone, we might talk now.”
While Alexander was waiting, Jonathan, Hannah, and little Mary greeted him. The Bleasdells had sent the older Strout children out to the wagon ahead of them. Once Alexander had given them a brief synopsis of how things were going at home, they assured him they were still prepared to keep the children for as long as he needed.
When they had finished discussing the children, Alexander walked them out to their wagon. The older Strout children seemed delighted to see him. But as was the case the last time he had visited them at the Bleasdells’ home, they were unmistakably quite content with Hannah and Jonathan. Before long, the wagon pulled away and Alexander returned to the church.
Then, when the building had cleared, the two men approached the front of the room. As soon as they had each taken a seat, the reverend inquired as to the reason for the meeting. Alexander began by explaining all that had taken place since he and Sarah had returned from Boston—including that he had not told her of the Strout children and where they would be living when she was well. He had already, on a previous occasion, filled him in on all that had occurred in Boston.
Looking thoughtful, the pastor asked the reason Alexander had not informed his wife that he had taken the children in.
“Reverend, Sarah has not yet recovered from all that has happened to her. I fear if she were to learn that Alice left the children in our care, she would press for me to fetch them back. Furthermore, given what has happened, she has been fearful of even venturing out of our yard. Most days she makes an attempt, only to return a few moments later. I believe her love for the Strout children shall drive her to finally do it. In the past, when calling on the Strouts, she often walked there. I am certain that when she attempts to leave, it is to their former home she is endeavoring to go.”
Looking confused, the pastor questioned, “Why not simply ask you to convey her there?”
As he rubbed his chin, Alexander responded, “I cannot be sure, but I believe she understands that until she is successful at conquering her fears, she shall be held captive by them. You wouldn’t know it to look at her, but she can, at times, be quite determined, especially when it is something she wishes to do on her own.”
The two men chuckled a bit at Alexander’s comment, for they both had seen that side of Sarah. They were also both fully aware that, even to her own detriment, her stubborn streak had almost always been in relation to her service for others.
Alexander then became serious. “What is your opinion? Am I doing the right thing in not telling her?”
“It is hard to say. I do appreciate the complexity of the situation. I suppose if she hasn’t inquired about the children, it may be acceptable. If at some point she does wish to know, however, I believe it is best that you are forthright.”
“Of course. If she had inquired, I certainly would have told her. To do otherwise would clearly have been dishonest. But even though she hasn’t asked outright, I wasn’t exactly certain that I was doing the right thing, no matter my motives. That is why I thought to ask your opinion on the matter.”
“Well, as I said, Alexander, I am not exactly certain how best to answer you; therefore, let us pray that she shall prevail over her fears, and that you shall know the correct time to inform her of all concerning the children,” smiled Reverend March. The two friends then devoted some time to prayer. When they had concluded, Alexander went on his way feeling more at peace.
As soon as he had entered the house, Alexander went in search of Sarah. Finding her in the parlor, he inquired about her day. He then offered to give her an account of the sermon, to which a delighted Sarah readily agreed. She had so missed hearing Reverend March expounding on the Word. In fact, each Sunday, after Alexander had gone, she had felt quite downcast at remaining behind, but she simply was not prepared to face anyone. She wondered what the folks at church knew of what had happened to her. In any case, because she had been away so long, there would surely be questions that she was not at all ready to answer.
Taking a seat next to her on the settee, Alexander began. “Today the reverend talked again of our Savior’s death and resurrection, reading from the pertinent passages in Matthew.” Opening his Bible, Alexander began reading about the night that Jesus was arrested, “‘Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples, sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder. And he took with him Peter and the two sons of
Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith he unto them, my soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me.’”
After pausing a moment, Alexander asked, “Do you recall how, each time, after Jesus had gone off to pray, when He returned to where the disciples were waiting, He found them asleep?”
Listening closely, Sarah nodded.
Alexander continued, “In verse forty, it states: ‘And he cometh unto the disciples, and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What, could ye not watch with me one hour?’ And then in verse forty-one: ‘Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.’ How many times I have felt that I too have failed the Lord. Before Jonathan explained the way of salvation, and that it was not by works but through Christ’s sacrifice on the cross that we are saved, I had endeavored to earn my salvation. I knew that I had failed miserably, but until I learned differently, I felt helpless to change things.”
Sarah then conveyed her agreement with what her husband had said. “Indeed, Christ’s sacrifice—paid at a heavy price—was an amazing gift. Alexander, do you think if the disciples had understood that Jesus was about to be arrested that very night, they would have remained awake to pray?”
“It is difficult to say. It does seem that even though Jesus had stated what was going to happen, they had not fully understood—as evidenced by their doubt when the women later came to tell them that the tomb was empty. They didn’t seem to comprehend that Christ had actually risen. Two of them had to run and see for themselves. As I said, I could not judge them for it, for I have failed the Lord many times.”
Dropping her eyes to her lap, she responded, “As have I.”
Hearing Sarah’s somber tone, Alexander looked over at his wife and responded, “Remember, Sarah, you need only give an account to the Lord for your own sins, not for those perpetrated against you. We can pray for those who misuse us, but we are not guilty of their sins.”
With her eyes still lowered, Sarah whispered, “But sometimes things we have done opened the way for others to harm us, such as when you asked me to promise not to go to Alice’s when you were away. Had I listened to you and not gone—”
“That is precisely what I am talking about. What Matthew did to you was not your fault.” Seeing that the conversation was upsetting Sarah, Alexander changed the subject. “Why don’t we go out to the backyard? The sun is shining. It is a beautiful day.” Taking hold of Sarah’s hand, Alexander stood to his feet, pulling her up with him. As soon as they had left the parlor, they donned their warm outer clothing and went out the rear door, where they spent a considerable amount of time taking in the fresh air.
The following day, in keeping with her routine, Sarah quietly made her way out the front door. Having seen her mistress leaving, Esther went to inform Martha. Unbeknownst to Sarah’s husband and head servant, Sarah had confided in her friend about what she had been attempting to do, which was to make her way over to the Strouts’ home. In fact, the two young women had begun to discuss many things, just as they had done before Sarah had left town. Once Sarah had explained to Esther that she didn’t blame her for revealing her secret, the two had hugged and things had returned to normal between them.
Finding Martha in the doorway of Mr. Swyndhurst’s study, conversing, Esther stated that Sarah had gone out the front door. Mr. Swyndhurst quickly rose from his chair to follow Martha, who had already moved in the direction of the kitchen. Esther had seen Martha watching Sarah on a few of her previous attempts to leave the yard; thus, she believed the elderly woman would want to know that her mistress was at it again. Just as she had been, the young woman knew Martha had been hoping and praying that Sarah would finally conquer her fear of leaving the estate on foot.
Looking back over her shoulder, Martha thanked Esther for coming to tell them. As they made their way to the window, Martha and Mr. Swyndhurst each silently prayed that, this time, Sarah would make it. Esther stole a few looks through another window out of sight of the head servant and her employer.
Out at the edge of the yard, looking up, Sarah prayed that God would give her strength to walk along the particular stretch of road—the one that held such terrible memories for her. After stepping out of the yard, Sarah took a deep breath. Then, putting one foot in front of the other, she set off down the road.
Had she seen her husband and Martha watching her from the kitchen window, she would have observed two faces with tears streaming down their cheeks. “She is actually doing it!” exclaimed Martha.
Glancing down at his servant-friend, Alexander smiled, “That she is.” Wiping his face on his sleeve, he said, “I better follow at a distance to see that she is all right.”
Nodding, Martha responded, “That might be best. She is sure to be upset when she learns the Strouts are not at home. You shall have some explaining to do.”
“Yes, that was my thinking.” With that, grabbing his coat, Alexander quickly followed after Sarah. As he could see her walking up ahead, he held back a little so as not to be seen.
When Sarah neared the dreaded spot, she picked up her pace to nearly a run. With her heart pounding, she raced by. Once she had cleared the location by several paces, she began to relax.
Alexander observed as his wife hastened by a certain section of the road, and then began to slow to her usual stride. That must have been where Matthew was lying in wait for her. The worst is over; she made it beyond that point. I am glad that I shall be with her on the return trip, for she is sure to be fatigued from the whole ordeal. Before long, Alexander noticed that Sarah had turned off toward the former home of Alice and her children. Quickening his step, he caught sight of Sarah standing at the front door to the house, knocking.
As he made his way over to her, he noticed that she had ceased from knocking and was now turning around. He then watched as she took a seat on the step. She suddenly glanced in his direction.
As her husband approached, she peered up at him with a quizzical expression. “No one is at home, and the window dressings have been taken down. It almost seems as if they no longer live here. Where could they have gone?”
When he had taken a seat beside her, he responded, “Sarah, Alice has moved to Ipswich to be with her sister.” He quickly decided to answer only what he was asked and not offer up any additional information. He then wondered just how much he was going to have to disclose.
“But why? Why would she leave?” she inquired with tears threatening to fall.
While placing his arm around her shoulders, he replied, “It seems after you went away she felt that the burden of caring for her children, alone, was too much. I believe she finally understood just how much you had been doing for her.”
“She must have thought her sister would be of some help to her with the children.”
Alexander knew right then that he had to tell her everything; however, just as he was about to inform her that the children had been living at their home and would be returning when she had recovered, he decided not to disclose that last bit of information just yet. He knew she would want them to come back right away. He didn’t believe she was quite well enough for that responsibility.
“Actually, Sarah, Alice didn’t take the children with her.”
Upon hearing this, Sarah’s eyes darted in Alexander’s direction. “What do you mean, she didn’t take the children?”
“Just what I said—she did not take the children with her.”
Full of questions, she stared at her husband. She then began to let loose. “How could she do that? She just left them behind, or is it only temporary? She is sure to come back for them when she is settled, is she not? Where are they now?”
Attempting to avoid eye contact, he answered, “No…it isn’t temporary. She felt she could leave, given that Ipswich is not that far away. She intends to make regular visits.” He had still not answered the question of where the children were now.
As shaky as she had felt
before she arrived at Alice’s door, with her concern for the children, Sarah had all but forgotten her fears. “Where are they, Alexander? And how are they getting along without their mother? Are they settled with the fact that she has gone off and left them?” She was now beginning to grow angry at Alice. After all I have done to help that woman care for her children, to have her simply abandon them!
Surmising that his wife was furious, Alexander started to grin. This little bit of a woman can be quite fierce when protecting those she loves. He decided to put her mind at ease. “They are with the Bleasdells and doing quite well. Jonathan and Hannah have enjoyed having them. Remember, not too many years ago the Bleasdells lost a child. Little Mary is nearly the same age as Henry was when he died.”
In understanding for what it was like to lose a son, Sarah nodded and said, “Perhaps they are much better off with the Bleasdells. I am sorry for Alice. I should not have been angry with her. She was only doing what she thought best, of that I am certain.”
Alexander was beginning to feel the tension in Sarah’s shoulders ease. Hoping the conversation might end there without his having to reveal that the children had been living at the Swyndhurst estate with him, and would soon be again, he changed the subject. “Sarah, I am proud of you for conquering your fears.”
Surprised by her husband’s comment, she inquired, “How did you know?”
“It wasn’t too difficult. We knew you were going out in the front yard nearly every day. When Martha told me what was going on, from that point on I have been joining her in watching out the window to see if you would make it,” he answered as he pulled her against his chest. “I understand that even though the man is dead, you have frightening memories connected to this town, and that stretch of road.”