Page 23 of The Witch

“Then I will accept Goodman Hatch’s horse as payment,” Dr. Shaylor says magnanimously.

I have never been so furious. Does this man not see that if he cuts her throat, he will kill her, just as surely as the Night Reaper’s hands around her neck? And poor Hiram, sick with worry and desperate for his wife to be well again, will agree to anything. There is nothing I can do. I cannot convince anyone in the room that this is madness.

I can only behold Dr. Shaylor drawing near, the bloodied lancet clasped firmly in his right hand.

16

In one moment, Dr. Shaylor is walking toward Judith with his lancet. He is ready to cut her throat in the name of saving her. There is nothing that I can do to stop him.

And then a curious event transpires.

Very suddenly, Judith’s eyes roll up in their sockets. For but a moment, I am certain she has passed, but then her body starts to tremble. She shakes violently, hard enough that it almost seems as if she might start levitating off the bed. Hard enough that her teeth rattle.

“What is happening?” Molly cries, her smug expression having melted into fear.

Dr. Shaylor’s eyes are wide as he backs away from the bed. “Pray, keep your distance. She may be under possession.”

The other three occupants of the room give Judith a wide berth, but I place my hand on her shoulder, trying to at least keep her from flying off the bed and injuring herself. And then, just as quickly as it started, the shaking comes to an abrupt end. Judith’s right leg gives one last jerk, and then she is still.

“What happened to her?” Hiram cries.

Dr. Shaylor flashes him a grave look. “’Tis no natural illness your wife has. I have seen this before, and no doubt ’tis the work of the devil!”

“The devil?” Hiram gasps.

“Yes.” Dr. Shaylor fixes his gaze on me, and the expression on his face is most disquieting. He cannot possibly think that I had something to do with this, could he? “You do not need a doctor to treat her. You need a man of God.”

The doctor stuffs his equipment back into his black bag, including the bloodstained cloth and lancet, while he mumbles words of prayer under his breath. He gives me one last lingering look, and I expect him to ask me for the ten pounds, which I shall refuse, but he does not. Instead, he takes his leave without another word, leaving me alone with Molly and Hiram, and of course, Judith, who is not long for this world.

“What can we do?” Hiram moans. “Do we need to fetch Reverend Tomlinson? Will he be able to save her?”

He drops to his knees at his wife’s bedside, because he very well knows that the reverend will not be able to save Judith. It was unlikely the doctor could save her, but the reverend certainly cannot. Judith is very ill, and I am frightened there is nothing we can do.

Unless…

I wrack my brain, trying to remember what Hitty told me when Archie fell ill. She said… Yes, I remember now: She told me that if a person has a very high fever, their body can start to shake on its own accord due to the heat. She said she oft witnessed it in young children, yet it stands to reason that it could happen with Judith as well. That means we must bring down her fever if Judith has any hope of recovery.

“Listen to me,” I say to Hiram and Molly. “She is burning up. We need to cool her down as much as we can. That is the only way to help her.”

“What do you know of medicine?” Molly cries out. “You heard Dr. Shaylor—she is possessed, and she needs the reverend forthwith.”

I look over at Hiram. He seems to be considering my words.

“The fever is what is making her so sick,” I tell him. “We can cool her down. We can keep her cool while her body heals itself, and that is her best chance of surviving.”

After a moment, Hiram nods. “She is very hot.”

Molly looks stunned and furious that Hiram agreed. “I cannot believe you heed her nonsense!”

“’Tis her only chance,” I say softly. “Will you help, Molly?”

Molly grumbles the whole time, but she reluctantly helps us. We strip Judith down to her bare skin, and we lay rags soaked in water from the wash bench all over her body. She is so hot that the rags nearly sizzle when they make contact with her flesh. She lets out a low moan but is otherwise still.

For several hours, we repeat this process. We swap out the rags when they become too warm, and at first, it seems there is no improvement. After two hours, I send Molly home, because there is no need for all three of us to keep vigil at Judith’s bedside. And then, as the sun dips in the sky, Judith’s eyelids flutter, and she speaks the first coherent words I’ve heard from her since I arrived.

“I am so thirsty,” she croaks.

Hiram stares at her in amazement. “I have not been able to get her to drink anything all day!”