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Chapters (206)
  1. Praise for Maplecroft
  2. Title page
  3. Copyright page
  4. Contents
  5. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  6. THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
  7. •   •   •
  8. •   •   •
  9. •   •   •
  10. •   •   •
  11. •   •   •
  12. A DOCTOR, A LAWYER, A MERCHANT, A CHIEF
  13. •   •   •
  14. •   •   •
  15. •   •   •
  16. •   •   •
  17. •   •   •
  18. •   •   •
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  20. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
  21. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  22. •   •   •
  23. •   •   •
  24. •   •   •
  25. •   •   •
  26. BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
  27. •   •   •
  28. •   •   •
  29. I CROSS THE MAGPIE, THE MAGPIE CROSSES ME
  30. •   •   •
  31. Nance O’Neil
  32. THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
  33. •   •   •
  34. •   •   •
  35. •   •   •
  36. •   •   •
  37. AND IF YOU HAVE A HORSE WITH ONE WHITE LEG . . .
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  43. THE WORST IS TO BE JUDGED WITHOUT HOPE
  44. •   •   •
  45. •   •   •
  46. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  47. •   •   •
  48. •   •   •
  49. •   •   •
  50. •   •   •
  51. •   •   •
  52. •   •   •
  53. BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING
  54. •   •   •
  55. CUT THEM ON FRIDAY, YOU CUT THEM FOR SORROW
  56. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
  57. •   •   •
  58. •   •   •
  59. •   •   •
  60. •   •   •
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  62. HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON
  63. •   •   •
  64. •   •   •
  65. •   •   •
  66. •   •   •
  67. A DWELLING PLACE OF JACKALS, THE DESOLATION FOREVER
  68. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  69. •   •   •
  70. •   •   •
  71. Nance O’Neil
  72. •   •   •
  73. •   •   •
  74. •   •   •
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  83. •   •   •
  84. Emma L. Borden
  85. •   •   •
  86. •   •   •
  87. •   •   •
  88. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  89. •   •   •
  90. •   •   •
  91. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  92. •   •   •
  93. RIGHT CHEEK, LEFT CHEEK—WHY DO YOU BURN?
  94. •   •   •
  95. •   •   •
  96. •   •   •
  97. •   •   •
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  101. Aaron B. Stewart, Fire Chief, Farthington, Mass.
  102. Emma L. Borden
  103. •   •   •
  104. Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
  105. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  106. •   •   •
  107. Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
  108. •   •   •
  109. DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
  110. Emma L. Borden
  111. •   •   •
  112. •   •   •
  113. •   •   •
  114. •   •   •
  115. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  116. •   •   •
  117. •   •   •
  118. •   •   •
  119. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  120. •   •   •
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  128. •   •   •
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  130. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  131. Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
  132. •   •   •
  133. •   •   •
  134. •   •   •
  135. •   •   •
  136. •   •   •
  137. Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
  138. •   •   •
  139. Emma L. Borden
  140. •   •   •
  141. •   •   •
  142. •   •   •
  143. •   •   •
  144. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  145. •   •   •
  146. •   •   •
  147. •   •   •
  148. •   •   •
  149. •   •   •
  150. Emma L. Borden
  151. •   •   •
  152. •   •   •
  153. FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
  154. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  155. •   •   •
  156. •   •   •
  157. •   •   •
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  160. •   •   •
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  165. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  166. •   •   •
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  171. •   •   •
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  176. Emma L. Borden
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  186. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  187. •   •   •
  188. •   •   •
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  194. •   •   •
  195. •   •   •
  196. •   •   •
  197. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  198. •   •   •
  199. •   •   •
  200. •   •   •
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  203. •   •   •
  204. •   •   •
  205. Inspector Simon Wolf
  206. •   •   •

Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps the whispers have merit. What else would you call it but witchcraft—these experiments my sister undertakes in the basement laboratory, and around the walls and windows of this home? She’s turning it into a fortress of superstition, but if you ask her, she’ll argue that it’s all science . . . of a kind.

I understand her sentiments, but it’s hard to agree wholeheartedly when she starts wondering aloud which herbs and prayers might protect us.

The distance between an honest Christian mystic and a fortune-teller is sometimes less than half a whisper. Less than a pot of tea or the space between two book covers.

Unless I’m the silly one now—and that’s entirely possible.

•   •   •

It’s very quiet upstairs. I’m almost surprised they wore themselves out so quickly, though given the noisy vigor of the whole affair, it might not be such a mystery. Lizzie often has trouble sleeping, but if rumor among married ladies can be believed, there’s nothing quite like a good frolic to send one off to slumberland with haste.

And yet.

Lizzie’s trouble sleeping has extended into Nance’s visits, in the past. But tonight, she doesn’t even snore. It’s only Nance who’s restless, wandering up and down the stairs, standing in the kitchen like a ghost, like she’s forgotten something, like she’s waiting for something. Like she’s listening.

This is the second instance tonight that the girl’s appeared, and this time she either didn’t notice that I was still awake and writing, or didn’t care. She stood before the cellar door again; I could just barely see her shadow, stretching out into the corridor between us. It was long, for she is tall; and it was half-gauzy with the moonlight and gas lamp glow through the windows, shining through the fabric of her nightdress.

I reached for the bell beside my makeshift bed, but before I could ring it and, it is to be fervently hoped, summon my sister . . . Nance changed her mind and returned to the upstairs.

Maybe she was warned away by my candle after all.

Well, these words—combined with the last of the article revisions—have eaten up an hour and a half. No, closer to two, I should think. And I’m still wide-awake.

Perhaps I’ll begin that letter to Doctor Zollicoffer.

I would dearly love to hear from him again.

Owen Seabury, M.D.

APRIL 24, 1894