W

hen I took the position as curate at the Episcopal Church in Darlington I found myself the recipient of an extremely unusual request, the strangest I have ever had, and daresay, ever will have.

The request came in the form of a lengthy letter, which I will reprint here in its entirety:

Dear Reverend Halifax,

My name is Oliver Acton and I have resided in Darlington my entire life, and so I would like to welcome you to the town.

However, I'm afraid my business is more than mere hospitality. I would pay a visit and inform you of the matter myself, but a correspondence is more suitable. You see, I am mute, and have been for the past year. My inability to speak is not due to a physical deformity nor is it a congenital condition: for the first forty-two years of my life I spoke perfectly well.

What happened was that I was struck dumb, and not due to any natural, earthly organic cause. That is why I turn to you, a man of God. For the cause of my condition is not of this world, but of another world - from the supernatural. In short: I am the victim of a witch's curse.

Good minister, do not quit reading due to the extraordinary paragraph above. Although I full well understand that such words as these might make you doubt my sanity, and if you had said the same words to me, two years ago, I would perhaps have laughed heartily at what I perceived to be a jest. But alas, this is no jest, and I must beseech you to consider what your own good sense would disallow: that in these modern times, the Year of Our Lord eighteen hundred and sixteen, the ancient arts of sorcery are practiced still.

But please read on and I will endeavor to explain, and perhaps gain your confidence and even your credence.

Until two years ago, I was a fairly contented bachelor: I had an independency from my deceased parents that allowed me to live well, if not extravagantly. My efforts at gaining a wife had not met with success, but this only caused me distress from time to time.

Then in October 1813, my neighbor Randall Corning died leaving a widow, Betsy, as she was known.

(to be continued...)