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Jane gives herself to a mysterious stranger.

The village constable brought me my last meal and left my cell unlocked, it was just there," she pointed to some rough ground with a few stones protruding from the green carpet. "I ate my bread and cheese and drank my beer then stood to watch the sun go down for the last time and saw that the door was open. I pushed it open a bit more - just to talk to my jailer, but there was no one there.

The door to the lock-up was unlocked so I walked out, taking my shawl from the pile of my possessions he would sell once I was dead. I walked further down through the village, the unseasonal rain keeping everyone indoors, or so I thought.

I almost managed to get home but I was spotted by my spotty neighbour and she tried to raise a hue and cry after me but no one seemed interested. I got to my house and found her family moving in, the mother wearing my clothes, the father making ready to kill my brood sow. The Squire had already sold my house, the one we just drank a glass of wine in... my bloody house!" she snarled at the injustice as if it was only the day before.

"The father saw me and came at me with his slaughtering knife, and was soon joined by the spotty daughter, still screaming that I was a condemned witch while her father said if I ever came back to 'his' house he would slaughter me and hang my traitorous witch's heart from the gate post..." Her bottom lip trembled, "I'd never known such hatred Stevie, not once. So I ran, ran for my life and ended up at the Holborrow house screaming for the squire that had tried to rape me and had sold my property before I was even dead. I screamed at him to come out. He didn't and I screamed that he should burn in hell and in my impotence threw a stone at his window. Just in time my Grandmother arrived on a horse she'd borrowed.

We went back to Vine Cottage and the other family had gone, and I waited; waited for the village men to come after me but they didn't. Grandmother had made something, one of her potions, and put in the well that afternoon that would make everyone forget, hence the constable leaving my cell door unlocked, no one wanting to be involved in the hue and cry -- except for my spotty neighbour, something to do with gold that had changed hands.

Grandmother had planned it all and was coming at midnight to get me from my condemned cell and take me off to Oxford to work for a parson she knew there. I ruined it all by throwing that bloody stone "

"How?" he said, aware that he had sat transfixed through her story and wanting to get a word in, but to hear the next part.

"It knocked over a candle and set fire to the house. That damned squire died in his drunken stupor after fucking one of his equally drunken maidservants while the house burned around them.

To my shame his three children died in their beds as well. The squire's wife had been to a nearby friend's house, hadn't drunk the water from the well and got back in time to find her house well and truly ablaze, and her husband, children and two of her maids dead; it was smoke inhalation as they call it these days. They never rebuilt the house, you just saw the ruins." Ella walked across and stared out of the window to the village green again, visualising the tree whose shade she had rested in as a child and the rope that had been strung from its tallest limb an hour after the magistrate, the same squire, had condemned her to death.

"Grandmother tried to sneak me out of town on the horse but it wouldn't leave the confines of the village with me on its back.

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