“And yet Liston has always spoken of her fondly,” Emily added. “Is it not more likely that she knows the killer, that her madness masks what she knows, but even so, now and then she speaks the truth, and was trying to show it to us all along?”

“It must be Clifton Bradshaw who knows that song. He must be the culprit,” Anne said. “The first killing took place shortly after the death of his wife. We know he had dealings with Crossed Keys and also dabbled with the devil. Perhaps he was so desperate at the bones being uncovered and losing Tom that he could not wait any longer—perhaps he hopes to be caught.”

“Are we certain?” Charlotte said. “For though the evidence is compelling, a misstep now may cost Joseph his life.”

“We are as certain as we can be, and now there is no time to lose,” Emily said. “We must go to Top Withens now, this instant. All of us: Branwell, Mr. Nicholls and John Brown. We must send Martha for the constable, for all the good he is. At least he will be able to arrest Clifton. But most urgently we must secure Joseph’s safety before all is too late, for then, truly, our efforts would be for nought.”

“I’ll fetch our boots, and we will have to ask Mr. Nicholls to bring Papa—”

“I am here already,” Mr. Nicholls said, “in the hope that I might be of service.”

There was a knock at the door, and somehow, through the mass of people in the hallway, the door was opened to reveal not only Martin Earnshaw but Hemming, Lady Hartley’s coachman.

“Is Lady Hartley here?” Charlotte asked, seeming to struggle with the pace of events, and no wonder. They must have covered twenty miles today and barely eaten.

Anne felt not one whit of exhaustion but she suspected the imperative nature of their quest was all that kept her on her feet, and yet Charlotte looked like a stiff wind might blow her away to particles at any moment.

“Her ladyship asks that you come to Oakhope at once,” Hemming said. “She has heard of the unrest in the village and wishes for news and the comfort of your company.”

“You will have to tell her ladyship that Charlotte cannot go now,” Emily said. “We have a fiend to capture and a child to rescue. Lady Hartley will just have to wait.”

Charlotte looked at her sisters. “I . . . I don’t want to go with you, Emily, Anne. Forgive me, but I dread to go. I should like to go and wait with Catherine until there is news. I know you must think me very weak—”

“We do not,” Anne said. “You need not come, Charlotte, if you are sure. You should rest and replenish.”

“You go on—go now while there is still time.”