The Old Cape House (32 page)

Morning May 3, 1717

NORTH HARWICH – CAPE COD

ABIGAIL LANGUISHED IN HER BED.
Nathanial had left for sea without a goodbye this time. She mulled over their relationship, now strained as husband and wife. Her involvement with Maria Hallett
and the tragedy that befell the young girl seemed to mark the
beginning of strife in her life.

Adding to her suffering, Abigail was experiencing stronger heart palpitations daily, and she sensed that her body was under attack from all of the resulting stress. It frightened her. Everything seemed in disarray within her otherwise peaceful existence.

Always an early riser, today she struggled to get out of bed. As
the sun ascended higher in the late morning sky, Abigail dressed
and
opened her bedroom door. She noticed a large barrel by the
sideboard. “My stars, what is that doing in my house?”

She walked closer and bent down to examine the wooden barrel that intruded on her lovely sitting room. It had a white skull and crossbones on its side. “Gunpowder! For Lord’s sake.” What was Nathaniel thinking? “I won’t stand for this,” she muttered.

A recent terse scolding from Nathaniel flew through her
thoughts. He’d been angry about her buying supplies for Maria last winter. She jabbed at the fire in the hearth with gusto, “Heavens almighty!”
Under her breath, she mumbled, “Those items were a gift and
bought with funds from my own account.”

 Nathanial had issued commands and rules to her over the past several weeks, and she thought it so unusual for him to behave this way. Abigail recalled him sitting by the table a few days before he left. He’d spoken in such a patronizing tone: “You should not spend so much money buying things for this house; you have enough! It’s for your own good!”

How this reprimand irritated her. She became outraged, and her emotions energized her to want to right the wrongs that surrounded
her. She stood by the hearth, straightened her corset and dropped
the
poker with a clank. A discussion would be entered into with
Nathaniel over his dislike and low regard for her and her friends. Something would have to be done. But first things first; she went out to find Jacob so he could remove the ugly wooden barrel from her house.

***

Matthew guided the horse onto Abigail and Nathanial’s
pathway.
Maria and Sam lay hidden under the blankets in the back of the
wagon.

After only a few steps to the barn, Abigail heard someone call out from a distance. She turned and spotted the wagon.

“Greetings!” called Matthew.

Abigail waved and yelled out, recognizing Matthew. “Good
morrow!” A broad smile swept across her face. “How is it that I have the pleasure of a visit from you today?”

“You will see,” he said as he stopped the wagon on the side of the house. “Are you alone, Abigail?”

“I think so. Jacob might be in the barn.”

“I’ll go see for you,” Matthew said, climbing out of the wagon.

Abigail stood near the horse. She heard a small voice whisper
behind her. “Abigail.” Turning and seeing no one, she rubbed her
ear as if to clear it of a clump of wax.

“Abigail,” the tiny voice called again.

This time she heard it but didn’t know where it was coming from. “Who’s calling my name? Show yourself!”

Maria lifted a section of her cover and whispered, “It’s me,
Maria Hallett.”

Frustrated Abigail asked again, “My eyes and ears deceive me. Show me.”

At the same moment, Matthew came from the barn. There was
no
sign of Jacob. He threw the covers away to reveal the two
stowaways.

Surprised at seeing Maria and aghast at the sight of the beggar with her–or possibly he was a criminal–Abigail felt her heart speed up. She managed to say only a few words as she held onto the side of the wagon. “Please come quickly into the house.”

She turned, picked up her skirts and hurried inside, followed by the three unexpected visitors.

Abigail sat down to dab perspiration from her forehead with a linen kerchief while Sam, Maria, and Matthew paraded in front of her to their seats. Abigail was wary of the stranger Maria called Sam.
She remembered his name and knew he was the beginning of
Maria’s troubles.

Maria told her story, explaining what had happened over the
last several days and the reasons why they’d come to North Harwich. It
seemed to satisfy Abigail’s curiosity but didn’t change her
disapproval. Sam and Matthew sat as if they were young boys in trouble with their mother. Abigail’s presence commanded respect, and Sam knew that she represented their only hope for safety.

With her hands folded in front of her, Abigail looked directly at Maria. “What do you want from me?”

“A night to stay. That’s all I ask.” She reached for Abigail’s hand across the table.

With hesitation in her voice Abigail finally said, “You may have that, but then you must leave.” She squeezed Maria’s hand to show that she still felt a kinship with her.

Each one sat involved in their thoughts.

The room was quiet as Maria bowed her head in thankfulness for her friend’s kindness.

Abigail felt a slight hint of remorse at not helping more, but she
could not add any more stressful events to her life. She’d had
enough.

Sam didn’t know this elder woman friend of Maria’s and did his
best to keep to himself, refraining from his usual commanding
posturing.

Matthew listened, hoping deep inside that Sam’s identity as a
pirate would some how be revealed, and then he’d be taken away. In his mind Maria deserved better.

Their host rose from the bench in the kitchen. “Maria, come with me. Let’s find some clothes for Sam from Nathanial’s things.”

“Of course.” Maria placed her hand on Sam’s shoulder,
reassuring
him that everything would be fine; then she followed Abigail,
leaving the two men alone.

Sam, wanting to keep a watchful eye on his chest of gold in the
wagon, left the kitchen while Matthew stayed behind to drink his
cider.

Once outside, Sam could see the Doane homestead was situated
in an unpopulated part of the North Parrish of Harwich. He could
stand on the rise of Abigail’s property and look out upon the
Namaskaket River all the way to the bay. It was filled with grasses, marsh, natural springs and a few pockets of standing timber. He thought of the
years that he was ‘on account’ as a pirate. They were not to be
dismissed lightly. He had looted, maimed and even killed to insure his freedom from the tyranny of the rich and powerful. Uncertain if he would be
able to safely carry his treasure with him on their journey, he
decided that it was too important to be left to chance. A large boulder caught his eye not more than 200 feet from Abigail’s house. Checking his distance and surveying where it lay in regards to his position, he thought that it would serve his purpose.

***

Abigail was not angry as Maria selected respectful clothes for
Sam to travel in, hopefully unnoticed, but she could sense tension
between her and her friend. “You look well, my dear. It seems that your dreams are coming true.” Abigail straightened the clothes on the bed.

“Yes, almost. We have far to go, and we’re not safe yet, but I know Sam will take care of everything.”

“You are so trusting. I hope you’re correct.” Abigail smoothed
the green curtains that surrounded her bed. “How does Matthew feel about all of this?”

“Oh, he’s been very kind, helping us with the use of his wagon.”

“Yes I know, but how does he feel about you and Sam?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh my dear, never mind.” She sighed and stroked Maria’s back with her hand. “It doesn’t matter; I love you so much.” Abigail sat on the edge of the bed and began to tear. She dabbed her moist eyes. “I have always loved you as if you were my daughter. I’m worried about you and now Sam, too.”

Maria sat next to her. “This is our chance to be together.” She
held Abigail’s hand. “You were there when I needed a mother, and I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I love you, also.” Maria paused. “I want to tell you something.”

“What is it, my dear?” Abigail hoped Maria would finally tell her where she had buried her child.

“It’s so hard to say these terrible words.”

“Take your time. I’m listening.”

As Maria began to speak, Matthew called from outside the door, “Abigail, someone is coming. Quick, we must hide them.”

Abigail rushed to the kitchen and threw aside the rug that hid
the trapdoor to the root cellar. “Down there, you’ll be safe. Now
hurry.”

Maria turned pale. She stared as Sam lifted the door and began to make his descent down the stone steps that led into the darkness.

He turned. “What’s wrong, Maria? Hurry!” He reached out for her hand.

Matthew pushed her towards the opening while Abigail gave
Sam a small glass covered candle for light.

The trapdoor shut above them and rained down particles of
sand onto their heads and shoulders. Sam and Maria sat quietly on the dimly lit steps as they waited for whomever it was to go away.

“That was close,” Sam whispered. “Don’t be afraid. I’m with you now.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they huddled close together in the flickering light.

Maria moved her eyes back and forth, circling them from one
side of the cellar to the other. She inhaled the dampness of the dirt floor. A few dark reddish–brown spots of dried blood on the stone step beneath her feet reminded her of that horrible night. She moved her foot to cover the image and closed her eyes.

“Sam.”

“Yes, my beloved?”

She looked at him. “I must tell you something.” Her desire to
reveal
her dreaded secret to someone was surfacing. “When our child
died,”–she held her fingers to her trembling mouth–“I buried him.”

“Where, Maria?”

She extended a shaking finger toward the corner of the cellar. Sam looked in the corner and then turned back to Maria, then back again to the corner. Her secret was finally being released as he began to understand what she was showing him.

Maria knelt down on the dirt floor. She removed the empty
apple basket from the corner and pushed several inches of dirt aside to reveal the edge of a wooden chest. Tears welled into her eyes as she buried her head into Sam’s lap.

“I’m sorry, Sam. May God forgive me.”

“Shhhh, you must be still,” he said. “Hold tight to me until the sorrow passes from you.”

When Sam could feel her composure return, he got up and
replaced the dirt upon the wooden chest that held his son. He turned and
whispered to her, “You did nothing wrong.” He cradled her face in
his
hands. “You are young, and we are healthy. We’ll have another
child. I know this; I can feel it.”

They held each other in the silence, hoping their confinement
would be over soon.

Afternoon May 3, 1717

NORTH HARWICH – CAPE COD                          

IT WAS NOT LONG
before the darkness surrounding Maria and Sam was replaced with slivers of daylight as Matthew opened the trapdoor. “Come up. It’s safe. Someone only passed by the house.”

Sam let Maria go ahead of him. He held her from behind for fear that she might fall backward. Abigail stopped stirring the meat stew that was warming on the hearth and noticed his concern for her. It pleased her.

Few words were spoken as they ate. Midway through the meal Sam looked over to Abigail. “I would like to thank you for your kindness. I know it is dangerous for you if we were to be discovered in your house. We’ll be gone in the morning,” he reassured her.

Sam placed his hand over Maria’s and spoke on her behalf. “We are eternally grateful.”

“You’re welcome. I pray that you both will be safe.” Abigail
smiled at them from across the table. The clatter of spoons upon plates and the chewing of food filled the kitchen. As Abigail took a drink from her cider, she felt warmer than usual and dropped her spoon. Her hand flew against her heart, patting her chest. Everyone stared at her as she tried to catch her breath.

“Abigail!” Maria cried out.

“It’s all right, Maria…I’ll be fine…give me a minute for my heart to slow.” She waved her kerchief at Maria to sit back down. “I think it best I retire for the night, if you’ll excuse me. I fear that I may have had too much excitement.” She pushed herself away from the table. “Maria, I know you’re familiar with my kitchen. Would you be kind enough to take care of things?”

“Yes, of course.” Maria felt anxious about her friend’s well
being.

Abigail steadied herself by holding onto the walls as she walked.

“Let me help you.” Maria rose to hold her around the waist and guide her into the bedroom.

“Now don’t fret over me. This will pass as the other ones have.”
Abigail shooed her away. “Go and take what you need for your
journey. Make yourself ready.”

Maria stayed with her and as they passed through the sitting
room,
Abigail remembered the barrel of gunpowder. She stopped and
pointed to it. “Maria, would you please have Matthew remove that unsightly barrel of Nathaniel’s?”

“I will,” she said, helping Abigail onto her bed.

Abigail turned to say goodnight. “I will see you in the morrow.” She unlaced her corset and immediately felt relief.

Maria returned to Sam and Matthew in the kitchen. They had
finished eating their food and both were sipping cider.