Chapter 33 SAMUEL HALL
Chapter 33
S AMUEL H ALL
Winchester, England
September 15, 1881
As his numbness subsided, his family’s betrayal registered more. His mother hadn’t even come to see him, hadn’t sent a letter. His father, who had called Lillian a whore, and his brother, who had shot her dead, chose to let Miles take all the blame.
It was terrifying, the idea of climbing the steps to the gallows, staring at the rope, knowing he would die with no one by his side. If the fall didn’t snap his neck, he’d slowly suffocate. His eyes would bulge out of his head as he voided his bladder and bowels.
Still, he would not speak.
What was there to say?
What was there to live for?
Each day, they slid meals under the door of his cell. He barely ate, only to calm the stomach pain. His ribs protruded from his skin.
Only once per day did he see the daylight, when they escorted him out of the cell to join the others in the yard—most of whom were twice his age and had half as many teeth. Miles had stuck to himself, but they’d clapped him on the back, wishing him well, wishing him to find peace. A camaraderie existed even among criminals.
The day before he would die, all he could think of was Lillian. He could see her eyes as he riffled through the memories. He would think of her when they pulled the lever and his body fell.
Then nothing, a prospect that sounded terribly appealing.
The welcomeness of nothing.
The latch of his cell slid open; Miles snapped to a stand. If he didn’t stand quickly, they’d hit him again with the billy club. Though his fellow prisoners were sympathetic, the guards would not look him in the eye, would not offer even a shred of humanity.
He marched beside the guard as they led him through the prison, opening and closing steel doors. The metal parts clicked the last beats of Miles’s heart.
It became clear he was being taken somewhere other than the yard. A few more turns and doors took him to a part of the prison he’d never seen. Another door opened, and a flash of sunlight poured in. Miles covered his eyes until they could adjust.
Expecting to see a dangling rope and a crowd waiting on him, he was caught off guard by the waiting carriage. The guard quickly ushered him inside to find a man facing him. His sleeves were rolled up, and he had dirty nails. He jabbed a key into the handcuffs and removed them.
“Do not speak,” he said.
Miles couldn’t imagine what was happening. Were they about to kill him or set him free? The latter idea was nearly impossible to consider. Who would possibly be helping him? And why?
The driver gave a command for the horses to move, and he sat in silence as they rode for a while around bends and up and over hills. Perhaps it was someone in Lillian’s family intent on exacting revenge. But they didn’t have the power to get someone out of prison.
Eventually, they were in the forest, and the carriage came to a stop.
“Out,” the man commanded.
Miles did as he was told. On the side of the path, outside another carriage, his grandmother stood elegantly in a plaid dress that was bound tight around her skinny waist. A fancy hat decorated with a peacock feather rested on her head.
He tried to speak, but nothing came out. It was like attempting to move a leg that was no longer there.
She came to face him and held out her arms.
They embraced, and again he tried to speak. “How ...?” It was as if dust poured from his mouth.
His granny brushed his face. “You need a bath.”
Miles tried to smile, but those muscles were dead.
“Tell me you didn’t do it, and I will believe you.”
Miles shook his head and tried again. His jaws felt rusty, but he found the words. “I didn’t do it.” It was barely a mumble, but he met her eyes so that she knew he was innocent. “It was Edward. And my father gave me the blame.” A tear escaped, leaving a trail down his unwashed cheek.
She reached to wipe it. “I thought it might be something of that nature. We have no time to lose, Miles. I’ve booked you on a ship to America. It leaves first thing in the morning. I have new papers for you. Your name is now Samuel Hall. I have a room for you as well. Harold will escort you tonight and put you up, then take you to the boat. But, Miles, you can never come back. It breaks my heart to say so, but you will be killed if you do. Do not even write. It’s the only thing that I can do for you.”
She reached into a satchel and drew out a pouch. “This is enough money to get you where you need to go. The ship’s passage has already been paid. I’ve included some United States bills as well. Find yourself a new life, Miles. Find yourself someone new to love.”
He frowned at that. She was speaking too fast, though, and all the information fell heavily on him. A ship to America? Was he truly free or was he dreaming?
Granny dug into the pouch and pulled out the photo of Lillian and him. “I know you are broken, but find a reason to live for her. She’d want that.”
He squeezed his granny tight as more tears escaped his eyes.
“You must go,” she whispered. “Be careful. And find life again.”
“Granny,” he managed to get out. He had so much to say but she was rushing him, and he wasn’t in the right shape for conversation.
“Yes, my dear.”
“Thank you.”
She pinched his cheek. “I am sorry.”
They held eye contact for a long while. She was the strongest woman he’d ever known, and she’d risked her life for his.
When he pulled away, he hurried into the carriage, holding tight to the purse. He raised a hand for one last wave.
In the morning, Miles went to the docks and found the steamship that would take him to his new life. Dark clouds released a gentle rain. Miles’s clothes were as damp as the air. The ship’s name was the Dayton Seacutter , and she had two giant masts ready for sails and two chimneys already spilling out steam. The commotion around him was near madness as he worked his way to the gate. People dressed in their finest clothes bade farewell to their loved ones.
A man in a blue hat glanced at his papers and said, “Welcome aboard.”
All Miles could afford was a nod.
Before he disappeared into the bowels of the ship, Miles turned to glance upon his native land one more time. He’d lost everything here. Could he ever find his footing again?
Miles located his room, which had a small window that looked out to the choppy sea. He climbed into the bed and stared up to the ceiling. It was no different from the prison he’d been in for weeks.
Miles Pemberton.
Now Samuel Hall.
Though a name had been changed, a new existence offered, he had nothing left, barely any will to keep living.
He took out the envelope his grandmother had given him and then drew out the photo of Lillian and him. For a moment he fell back to that day when their lives had been so full of promise. He could still smell her hair and feel her smile.
The loss of her washed over him, and he recalled how it felt to hold her body as her heart stopped beating. He slipped the photograph back into the envelope and let it fall to the floor.
Life was surely not worth living without her.
Two weeks later, they reached New York. Miles had still not said a word. He looked upon this new land from the bridge of the ship and wondered how much longer he could stand breathing.
Where so many that crossed onto land were smiling, he descended the walkway the same way he might walk to the gallows. A man already dead.