‘Why? What good has that done so far?’ asked Sorcha. Then she saw the expression on Nettie’s face and gave a long sigh. ‘Nae, you’re right.’ Rising, she searched the shelves for a bottle of whisky. Finding one, she grabbed two quaichs and poured. Passing one over to Nettie, she tapped the lip of hers against her friend’s. ‘Confronting him will only warn him. He’ll come up with a story to explain the escape, one that likely condemns us further.’ She sank back into her seat. ‘It’s just that he’s determined to tear Fife apart to find Beatrix and, once he does, he’ll have her tortured again, no matter what he states. Don’t forget, like you, she’s still an accused witch — one that’s fled. He can arrest and question her. This could stop that.’

‘But if we wait and allow the reverend to weave his web of lies, apportion blame and excuses as to why the prisoners escaped, then the truth comes out, it will be even worse for him.’

Sorcha’s eyes sparkled. ‘That’s true. You be a wicked woman, Nettie Horseburgh.’

‘Nae, hen,’ said Nettie smiling. ‘Like you, I be a wicked witch. A sea-witch.’

They both snickered.

Suddenly serious, Sorcha sat up. ‘Very well. I’ll write to Edinburgh and give them a chance to act. While we’re waiting, I think we should let Beatrix and the others know what’s happening. It will not only forewarn them, but offer them some reassurance as well.’

‘Aye, it will,’ said Nettie.

‘Do you think Rebecca can hide Beatrix for a couple more days?’

‘I’m certain she can.’ Nettie drank slowly then stared at the window, not really seeing it. ‘I’ll go to Anster first thing, let the lasses know what’s going on.’

Sorcha nodded approvingly. ‘That’s a grand idea. I’ll tell the others.’

Nettie narrowed her eyes. ‘You’re not thinking of doing anything rash while I’m gone, are you, hen? Like accosting the reverend yourself?’

‘Me?’ asked Sorcha, trying to look innocent and failing. She threw up her hands. ‘I promise. I won’t even think about confronting him until we hear from Edinburgh and you’re back. How’s that?’

Trying to look satisfied, Nettie eventually agreed. ‘Very well.’ She settled into the chair and crossed her ankles. ‘It’ll be good to see Rebecca and Billy, that fine man of hers, Beatrix too. We can hide her in the cellar if we have to.’

Sorcha grinned. ‘So long as there’s whisky for her, there’ll be no complaints.’

They chuckled softly.

‘If we leave before dawn breaks,’ continued Sorcha, ‘I can be back home before the sun rises. And if you stay away for a day or two, if anyone asks where you are, I can say you left for Anster this afternoon. That’s long before the reverend released the murdering bastards.’