Daniel drew himself up. Opened his mouth. Prayed the words would come. ‘The house is empty.’ His own voice, louder and deeper than expected, rang with an unfamiliar authority.

‘What, milksop such like you rode up to the witch house?’ Gabriel asked.

Daniel looked down at him, strong with the truth. ‘I did. It’s empty.’

Gabriel scowled. Crackle and hiss of flames, disgruntled muttering. This was not the reckoning they had hoped for. His father in the crowd. Expressions buffeting across his face like a wheat field in the wind.

‘Don’t believe him,’ Gabriel shouted. ‘We’ll search it ourselves.’

‘Waste of time. Why would I lie?’

Muttered dissent. It took all Daniel’s strength to sit tall, to hold fast to the mare and hide his fear that any moment she would panic and pitch him off. Only the knowledge that it was Sarah’s home he protected put stop to his shaking.

‘There’s justice to be done,’ a voice called. ‘Poor Sam could be lying dead, for all we know.’

‘Could be murdered.’

Voices raised in a drunken, savage cacophony. He held tight to the mare as she flattened her ears and skittered.

‘Justice,’ he shouted. Desperate, no idea where he was going with this. Surprised as they quietened for him. ‘The man you need to bring your justice is Magistrate Thompson. Then you’ll have proper penalty.’

‘Proper penalty for a beating is a beating,’ Gabriel said.

Daniel’s heart battered against his chest. There was no reasoning with them. They began to move forward.

‘Wait.’

A voice from the back, not loud but somehow laden with authority. Over the heads of the crowd Daniel saw Parson Walsh.

‘Master Taylor is right. Justice of the law is the way of the righteous, not justice by blows.’

Gabriel the only one to challenge. ‘An eye for an eye, isn’t that what God says?’

‘Do you believe yourself a greater authority than the magistrate?’ the parson asked.

Gabriel opened his mouth but Daniel spoke over him. ‘I know where he is, I passed him not long ago in the woods.’

Heads lifted in interest as though the scent of scandal was borne on the air. There was only one reason to be in the woods on May Day. A tradition usually favoured by the young, and the magistrate had celebrated his sixtieth birthday in memorable fashion not two months before. Daniel prayed they would go and find him, rescue Phyllis before harm was done. More harm was done.

Parson Walsh caught his eye. ‘Then reason has won. Lead the way, young man.’

His tightening grip on the mare caused her to skip in a circle. Helpfully. ‘I must take the horse back, parson. But if you pass into the woods here and head towards the village, you will find him.’