“Well, let me see. I’m freezing cold, wet through and not entirely sure what we are looking for or, indeed, if I even really know my sisters anymore, so frankly, no, I do not.”

“If Branwell is right, this was treated as a secret sacred place for years before the bones were hidden,” Anne said, a thought striking her. “Do you remember—one of the books in the pile we found at Ponden Hall was on the symbolism of trees? Could it have been a pointer towards this woodland as a part of the mystery of the child?”

“Pine trees are considered symbols of wisdom, fertility and life never-ending,” Branwell told them. “I cannot tell you why I have that knowledge, since it comes from my days as a Mason, and our secrets are not for the ears of mere women.”

“Well, the trees were full-grown when Agnes came here,” Emily said, noting Branwell’s contribution, but ignoring his barb, “following the sounds of something she did not wish to describe. Could she have witnessed a murder? Could the child, already weak and sickly, have been sacrificed here?”

“I do not believe so,” Anne said. “Agnes didn’t want to talk of the evil, but if she had seen something so terrible, she would have spoken of it, I am sure. She is a God-fearing woman, and it would be a great sin to hide such knowledge.”

“Unless she was too afraid to speak up,” Emily said. “Perhaps she feared that if she did, she would be in danger. Perhaps it was Zerubabbel Barraclough himself she saw that night, and he has had her in his thrall ever since, unable to escape his clutches.”

“Zerubabbel Barraclough?” Branwell questioned them. “You suspect him of nefarious deeds?”

“He is of interest to us,” Anne said. “He had access to Top Withens that summer, his housekeeper worked there that very same year, and he was at Ponden just before we found the books. He certainly doesn’t want anyone to know his business, and he doesn’t seem too fond of you, Branwell.”

“Ah, well, there was a slight discrepancy in the lodge accounts when I left, but it had nothing to do with me,” Branwell said. “Barraclough has never really accepted that to be the case and never fails to remind me of that. You truly suspect him to be the culprit?”

“We have no clear suspicions as yet,” Emily said. “After talking to Agnes, I have even wondered about Liston. . . .”

“It cannot be Liston,” Anne said at once. “Every interaction we have had with him has shown him to be decent and good. One cruel deed does not make a monster, Emily—you should know that. Besides, he was only a boy at the time, grieving his mother.”

“Liston is a fine fellow,” Branwell added. “A jolly good man.”

“Perhaps,” Emily said, keeping any further thoughts to herself.