Читать книгу Thaddeus Lewis Mysteries 3-Book Bundle - Janet Kellough - Страница 32

Brighton Circuit had been a good choice for Lewis, both in terms of the number of new converts and the number of weddings, baptisms, and — less appealing — funerals he was called to. Fortunately, the settlements on this round had a high proportion of younger people, so marriages and baptisms formed the bulk of the work that brought him extra money. It sounded callous, even to his own ears. After all, his mission was to preach the Word, not to make a profit. Nevertheless, his £100 debt preyed heavily on his mind and the remuneration he received for presiding at special occasions was allowing him to slowly peck away at his monetary millstone. Even when, as was all too often, there was no cash to give him, he received eggs or cheese or joints of beef for his services. These he would carry to the nearest store where, in exchange, he could chivvy a coin or two from the storekeeper. Good sense dictated that he shouldn’t allow any of these opportunities to slip away. His return to Demorestville would have to wait.

The heavy rains continued into June, causing the creeks and small rivers to swell and flood and rendering the back roads even more boggy and unpleasant than usual. Lewis was finding it difficult to reach the more remote areas of his circuit, and once there, found few to preach to. The families who normally would have congregated in the nearest village for a meeting found it almost impossible to fight their way through the water and mud to get there. He would have been willing to travel from house to house to worship with them — he had done it before — but even he found many trails impassable.

It seemed to him an excellent opportunity to leave his meetings in the hands of the local preachers. He could use the time not only to carry out his investigations, but to check on his family in Bath as well. As long as he stayed on the better-maintained main thoroughfares, it should only take him a day or two.

Although it had only been a few weeks since he had seen her, it appeared to him that Martha had grown several inches and had lost that babyish look. Both she and her grandmother seemed happy and well, and although Betsy was walking with a slight limp — the result of an aggravation of her fever during the damp spring — her colour was good and there was no sign of the pinched look that marred her face when she was in great pain.

When he announced that he was on his way to Demorestville next, Betsy insisted that she and Martha join him. It would be a change of pace, a holiday, and a chance to meet with old friends.

“That’s one of the hardest things about this life,” she said. “You make friends, then you move, and it’s years before you get to see them again. I’m quite interested in seeing Minta Jessup’s baby, and I’ll never get a better chance than this.”