The Keeper of Secrets Read Online Free PDF

willpower at my disposal not to retch and recoil at the stench of a veritable charnel house. I could not but reach for my handkerchief, pressing it hard against my nose and mouth, however that might diminish me in Hansard’s opinion.
    At last my eyes accustomed themselves to the dimness within. The only light came from the doorway – there was no door that I could see – and from the hole supposedly acting as a chimney. There was a pallid glimmer of flame from a fire, but I did not think it would survive much longer. Three or four shapes cowered in the furthest corner. It took me moments to realise that they were children. To my left a woman leant over another figure on a heap of straw that was the sufferer’s only bed.
    ‘How long has Luke been like this, Mrs Jenkins?’ DrHansard asked, as courteously as if he had been addressing Lady Elham.
    ‘These three days, Doctor. And getting worse.’
    ‘And why did you not call me earlier, my dear lady?’
    A groan and a wringing of hands told him what he needed to know.
    ‘You must know that in cases like these I never ask for a fee. I might not have saved his leg, or even his life, but I would have spared him pain.’
    Another terrible scream rent the air.
    ‘Parson Campion, pray, take those children outside. This is not a sight for their eyes.’ He might have added, ‘Or yours.’
    I did as I was bid, holding out my hands to encourage them. They cowered further into their corner.
    ‘William, go with my new friend,’ he said, over his shoulder. ‘You know what you will find in my gig.’
    I moved to the door, hoping with all my heart that they might follow and knowing that when they were safely outside I must return to pray for the dying man.
    ‘What will you find in the kind doctor’s gig?’ I asked, my voice falsely bright. ‘Come, let us find what he carries.’
    ‘Apples,’ hissed Hansard, whether for my benefit or theirs I could not tell.
    The urchins – more wild animals than humans, with their bodies ill-concealed in rags – erupted, shooting past me and lurching towards the gig, as if their legs were not sturdy enough for the business of running.
    I wondered at the doctor’s wisdom in encouraging them to eat fruit, but he must know best. I reached for the bag, allowing but one apple for each grasping hand, and fed one toboth horses. The contrast between the animals and the humans shocked me. Never had those childish heads been subjected to brush or comb, never had their hands been washed or the nails pared. I judged not one of them to be more than six years old.
    The apples were devoured, stalks and all. I feared to distribute more, but spied another paper-wrapped parcel. Doctor Hansard had provided himself with bread as well. Whatever he had intended this for, I could not restrain myself from breaking it, with a silent blessing, in some strange but not irreverent parody of the Holy Communion. Had I had wine, or better, good milk, I would have administered that too.
    Another scream tore through the comparatively peaceful air. This was no place for the children. Approaching William, the eldest, I bent down and asked quietly, ‘Do you know the parsonage, my child?’
    ‘Where Parson Hetherington lives?’
    ‘He lives there no longer. I live there now, with my groom, Jem. Pray you, take your brothers and sisters and go to find him. He will find you more food and drink. Ask Jem particularly for milk, mind. And stay with him till I come back. Do you understand that? Tell him Parson Campion sent you.’ As an afterthought, I added, ‘And ask him to send for Mrs Beckles. Do you understand? Mrs Beckles.’
    The straw on which the dying man lay was soaked with blood and worse. The stump of one leg jerked frantically in its own dance of death as his body arched and writhed. I swear he had bitten his own arm to the bone in an effort not to call out.
    ‘Is there nothing you can do?’ I whispered.
    ‘If I administer enough laudanum to ease his pain it will