Page 4 (1/2)

aT LaST THE aFTERNOON SUN had cleaved a path through the clouds and shone now on the drenched earth The weather had warht before This was ray and swollen with ether froain

"Go on," said the heavyset, lavishly bewigged man who stood at a second-floorof his house, overlooking the vista "I a"

The second man in the room - which was a study lined with shelves and leather-bound books, a gold-and-red Persian rug on the pinewood floor - sat on a bench before a desk of african er book open in his lap He was the visitor here, however, as the bewigged man had recently lifted his 220-pound bulk from his own chair, which stood on the other side of the desk facing the bench The visitor cleared his throat and placed a finger upon a line written in the ledger "The cotton plants have again failed to take root," he said "Likewise the tobacco seedlings" He hesitated before he delivered the next blow "I regret to say that two-thirds of the apple trees have been blighted"

"Two-thirdsi" said the , a majesty of white curls, flowed down around the shoulders of his dark blue, brass-buttoned suit He hite ruffles at his sleeves, white stockings on his thick calves, and polished black shoes with silver buckles

"Yes, sir The same is true of the plum trees, and about half of the pears at present the blackcherries have been spared, but it is Goode&039;s opinion that a parasite of sos in all the fruit trees The pecans and the chestnuts are so far unblemished, but the fields have been washed to the extent that round and vulnerable to harricultural maladies and pushed his spectacles up a little further on his nose He was a e and appearance He had light brown hair, a lofty forehead, and pale blue eyes, and he bore the air of a wearied accountant His clothes, in contrast to the other man&039;s finery, consisted of a plain white shirt, brown cloth waistcoat, and tan trousers

"Continue, Edward," the "

"Yes, sir" The speaker, Edward Winston, returned his attention to the itearding the fruit trees that he felt iain, he paused

"and that suggestion isi"

Winston lifted his hand and slowly ran two fingers across his mouth before he went on The id Winston said, "Goode suggests they be burned"

"How many treesi Only those afflicted, yesi"

"No, sir all"

There was a long silence The man at thepulled in his breath and let it slowly out, and when he did so his shoulders lost their square set and began to sag "all," he repeated

"Goode believes that burning is the only way to kill the parasite He says it will do no good in the long run to destroy only the trees presently showing ill Furthermore, he believes that the site of the fruit orchards should be moved and the earth itself cleansed with seawater and ashes"

The man at themade a soft noise that had some pain in it When he spoke, his voice eak "How many trees are to be burned, theni"

Winston consulted his ledger "Eighty-four apple, fifty-two pluht blackcherry, forty-four pear"

"and so we start over yet again, is that iti"

"I fear it is, sir as I always say, it&039;s better to be safe than sorry"

"Damn," the man at the hispered He placed his hands on the sill and stared down through red-riered drea us, Edwardi"

"I don&039;t know, sir," answered Winston, in all candor

Robert Bidwell, the man at the as forty-seven years old and scarred with theHis deeply lined face was strained, his forehead furrowed,across his chin Many of those s had afflicted him in the past five years, since the day he had been presented with official papers deeding him 990 acres on the coast of the Carolina colony But this was his dreaht that slanted through the o clouds, lay his creation

He&039;d christened it Fount Royal The reason for the na William and Queen Mary for their fount of faith in his abilities as a leader and raphic waypoint for future coate of Bidwell&039;s house - which was the sole two-story structure in the co of fresh, cold aquamarine-colored water that covered an expanse of nearly three acres Bidwell had learned froo and who&039;d also plu that it was more than forty feet deep The fount was of vital importance to the settlenant black ponds, the spring meant that fresh water would always be in abundance

Bulrushes grew in the spring&039;s shallows, and hardy wildflow-ers that had endured the interassy banks as the spring was the center of Fount Royal, all streets - their muddy surfaces made firmer by sand and crushed oyster shells - radiated from it The streets were four in number, and had been named by Bidwell: Truth ran to the east, Industry to the west, Har those streets were the ashed clapboard houses, red barns, fenced pastures, lean-to sheds, and workshops that made up the settlement

The blacksmith toiled at his furnace on Industry Street; on Truth Street stood the schoolhouse, across froeneral store; Harlican, Lutheran, and Presbyterian; the cee, but was unfortunately well-planted; Peace Street led past the slave quarters and Bidwell&039;s own stable to the forest that stood just short of the tidewater swamp and beyond that the sea; Industry Street continued to the orchards and farmland where Bidwell hoped someday to see bounties of apples, pears, cotton, corn, beans, and tobacco; on Truth Street also stood the gaol, where she was kept, and near it the building that served as a eon-barber was located on Harmony Street, next to Van Gundy&039;s Publick Tavern; and a nu town in hopes that Bidwell&039;s dreaht come to fruition

Of the 990 acres Bidwell had purchased, little more than two hundred were actually built upon, tilled, or used as pasture a wall s, their uptilted ends shaved and honed by axes into sharpened points, had been constructed around the entire settleainst Indians The only way in or out - notwithstanding the seacoast, though a watchtower built in the forest there was occupied day and night by a ate that opened onto Har itson the road

So far in the existence of Fount Royal, the Indian element had offered no trouble; in fact, they&039;d been invisible, and Bidwell ht have questioned whether there were indeed redskins within a hundred e sy expedition Stiles, a trapper and hunter of soard, had explained to Bidwell that the Indians werethe wilderness beyond the tree as territory not to be trespassed upon Bid-well had decided not to press the issue, though by the royal deed all that land belonged to him No, best to let the redskins alone until it was ti down upon the current decrepit condition of his dream hurt Bidwell&039;s eyes There were too one to weed, too s lay about in theand surly In the past month five hard-built structures - all deserted at the tiht fires, and a burnt smell still tainted the air Bidare of whom the residents blamed for these fires If not her hand directly, then the hands - or claws, as the case ht be - of the infernal beasts and i their state it Though the bars of her cell and the thick walls of the gaol confined her body, her spirit - her phantasm - escaped to dance and cavort with her unholy lover, to plot e and woe to Bidwell&039;s dreah; she had plainly said she would not go, that no power on earth could make her leave her hoht have had her hanged at the beginning and been done with it Noas a e who rimly God help Fount Royal

"Edward," BidweU said, "what is our present populationi"

"The exact figurei Or an estimatei"

"an estimate will do"

"One hundred or thereabouts," Winston offered "But that will change before the week is done Dorcas Chester is ill onto death"

"Yes, I know This da of the cemeteryalice Barrow has taken to bed as well"

"alice Barrowi" Bidwell turned froi"

"I had cause to visit John Swaine thisto Cass Swaine, alice Barrow has told several persons that she&039;s been suffering dreams of the Dark Man The dreams have so terrified her that she will not leave her bed"

Bidwell gave an exasperated snort "and so she&039;s spreading them about like rancid butter on scones, is that iti"

"It seems to be Madam Swaine tells me the dreams have to do with the cemetery More than that, she was too fearful herself to say"

"Good Christ!" Bidwell said, the color rising in his jowls "Mason Barrow is a sensible uei" He took two strides to the desk and slapped a hand down upon its surface "This is the kind of stupidity that&039;s destroying my town, Edward! Our town, I mean! But by God, it&039;ll be ruins in six !"

"I didn&039;t mean to upset you, sir," Winston said "I&039;ht you should know"

"Look out there!" Bidaved toward the here the rain-swollen clouds were beginning to seal off the sunlight once again "Empty houses and empty fields! Last May we had more than three hundred people! Three hundred! and now you say we&039;re down to one hundredi"

"Or thereabouts," Winston corrected

"Yes, and how i Dae to arrive from Charles Town! What can I do about this, Edwardi"

Winston&039;s face was damp with perspiration, due to the room&039;s humid nature He pushed his spectacles up on his nose "You have no choice but to wait, sir The legal systeal system does the Dark Man obeyi" Bidwell planted both hands on the desk and leaned toward Winston, his own face sweating and florid "What rules and regulations constrain his mistressi Damn my eyes, I can&039;t watch my investment in this land be destroyed by some spectral bastard who shits doo business by sitting onlike a ritted teeth "Co or not as you please, Edward! I&039;!" He stalked toward the door without waiting for his town er and stood up to follow, like a pug after a barrel-chested bulldog

They descended what to the ordinary citizens of Fount Royal was a wonder to behold: a staircase It ithout a railing, however, as the master carpenter who had overseen the construction of the stairs had died of the bloody flux before its completion The walls of Bidwell&039;s s and tapestries, which upon close inspection would reveal the treacheries of s, and rat droppings lay in darkened niches as Bidwell and Winston ca, they became the focus of Bidwell&039;s housekeeper, as always alert to her master&039;s movements Emma Nettles was a broad-shouldered, heavyset woman in her ht&039;ve scared a redskin warrior into the arms of Jesus She stood at the foot of the stairs, her ample body clad in her custoimented lie of her oiled and severely combed brown hair

"May I he&039;p you, siri" she asked, her voice carrying a distinct Scottish burr In her forirls

"I&039; from a rack on the wall a navy blue tricorn hat, one of several in a variety of colors to match his costumes He pushed the hat down on his head, which was no si "I shall have toss &039;em boys and jonakin for my supper," he told her "Mind the house" He strode past her and the servant girl toward the front door, with Winston in pursuit

"as I always do, sir," the madam Nettles said quietly an instant after the door had closed behind the two men, her flesh-hooded eyes as dark as her deh to unlatch the ornate white-painted iron gate - six feet tall and shipped at great expense from Boston - that separated hisPeace Street at a pace that tested Winston&039;s younger and sli, where Cecilia Se a bucket full of water; she started to offer a greeting to Bidwell, but she saw his expression of angry resolve and thought it best to keep her tongue sheltered

The last of the ht was obscured by clouds even as Bidwell and Winston strode past the community&039;s brass sundial, set atop a wooden pedestal at the conjunction of Peace, Har his oxcart to his farood afternoon to Bidwell, but the creator of Fount Royal did not break stride nor acknowledge the courtesy "afternoon to you, Tom!" Winston replied, after which he had to conserve his wind for keeping up with his employer as Bidwell took a turn onto the easterly path of Truth

Two pigs occupied a largewith glee as he rooted deeper into the e stood nearby barking his indignation David Cutter, Hiras and puddle, srossed in what appeared to be stern conversation "Good day, gentlemen!" Bidwell said as he passed them, and Cutter removed his pipe froettin&039; herei"

"In due ti

"I&039; puller, not the puppet!" Cutter fired back "We&039;re gettin&039; tired a&039; waitin&039; for this thing to be resolved! You ask e!"

"We have the assurances of their council from the insult

"Damn their assurances!" Dawson spoke up He was a spindly red-haired ht assure us the rain will cease, too, but what of iti"

"Keep walking, Edward," Bidwell urged sotto voce

"We&039;ve had a gutful of this dawdlin&039;!" Cutter said "She needs to be hanged and done with it!"

abercrombie, a farmer who&039;d been one of the first settlers to respond to Bidwell&039;s broadsheets advertising the creation of Fount Royal, threw in his two shillings: "The sooner she hangs, the safer we&039;ll all sleep! God save us from bein&039; burnt up in our beds!"

"Yes, yes," Bidwell esture of dis on his face and darkening the cloth at his ar hard; the air&039;s sullen daht foot sank into a pile ofhorse apples that Bidwell had just deftly avoided