Newgate Prison Copper Mines and the Irish Lass Colonial America Romance

Chapter Six

Christina shivered. "Horse thieves are viciously whipped and then put to hard labor. Some are even killed outright. A person would have to be in desperate need for a fast ride somewhere, to risk all of that."

He sighed. "Some lads simply do not think they will be caught or do not fully reckon with the consequences. Look here. It's about Levi, a twenty-one year old young man from Groton. He was convicted of burglary. They executed him. It doesn't even say what he stole."

Christina could not imagine that. Twenty-one years old, embarking on the foolishness of stealing another's watch or necklace or some such, and your entire life is ended.

A soft knock came on the door.

Christina raced to the door, her heart light. It of course might not be him, but maybe he had found a messenger ... a traveler ...

She pulled open the door.

Reverend Miller stood there, his quiet face gently welcoming.

She fondly smiled at him. "Reverend Miller. It is so lovely for you to stop by."

He stepped in. "When I heard that you had embarked on a period of prayer and contemplation, I knew it was my duty to lend my spiritual guidance to your efforts."

She waved a hand. "Please, come join us in the kitchen. It is warmer in there."

Her father rose, and the three of them moved over to sit at the table. Christina put out the cheese and bread, then poured three tankards of ale for them.

They settled into their seats.

She said to the reverend, "Your sermon yesterday was wonderfully touching. Thank you so much for your efforts. I know Seth is looking down from Heaven in contentment."

The reverend nodded his head. "Thank you for your kindness. Seth was a decent man. He was not prone to blasphemy or drunkenness. He was a simple man, but generally an honest one."

He shook his head. "It pains me that he was working on the Lord's Sabbath, and that led to his death. But I admit I put as much blame for that on Mr. Richardson. Seth did not have much choice in the matter of when to work, if he wished to keep his job. It is easy to say a good Christian should put God before all others in these matters, but a good Christian also has to pay his lodging costs."

Christina gave him a small smile. "Thank you for that kindness, Reverend. I know not all religious folk in our region would be as forgiving."

"It could be in part because the state's laws impose fines for non-attendance," pointed out the Reverend, "and also that fewer bodies in the pews means fewer coins for the collection plate."

She nodded.

Her father leaned forward. "Reverend, do you know if anything was troubling Seth recently?"

The Reverend blinked in surprise. "Troubling Seth? You mean as regards his upcoming wedding? Surely you do not think ... you do not think he took his own life?"

Her father put his hands in the air. "Oh, no, no, nothing like that. We were just trying to get a sense of his final days, is all. If he were happy."

The reverend gave it some thought. "Seth was not a man prone to excesses of joy or anger," he mused. "He was fairly resigned to life and took it as it came." He turned to Christina. "I do know that he was looking forward to this joining. He spoke about the repairs he was going to make to the roof. To the beams of the barn."

Christina nodded. It felt odd, still, to talk about Seth in the past tense. It also felt strange to distill his interests down into check-lists for house repairs.