CHAPTER ONE

On a summer night in the early nineteen hundreds a young couple came to the village of Weydon-Priors, England. The woman was carrying a child in her arms. It was obvious from the dirtiness of their clothing that they had been walking for a very long time.

The man looked healthy and strong and his skin was sun-darkened. Over his older clothing he wore a new dress coat and, on his head, a hat made of straw. From his shoulders hung a basket, which contained his work tools. He walked like a common countryside worker.

The man and the woman were very quiet. Not a word was spoken between them. The man held a book in front of his eyes, paying no attention at all to the woman at his side. She, on the other hand, did not appear to be bothered by this. She simply continued to walk alongside the fellow, sometimes quietly talking to the baby in her arms.

The woman had a face that could sometimes be described as pretty. However, this was only when she looked at her child. At all other times she wore an expression of hopelessness.

It was clear that the man and woman were married to one another. Only marriage could make a man and a woman get used to living in such an unhappy way.

The area around them was also silent, except for the occasional singing of a bird. As they came closer to the village, however, voices could be heard here and there in the distance. And just as they had passed the first house on the edge of town, the couple came upon a farmer, carrying a shovel. The young man suddenly stopped reading his book and looked at the old worker.

"Hey, you think I might be able to get some work here? Maybe in the hay fields or something?" he asked.

"You aren't going to find any kind of work in this village," answered the farmer.

"Well then, is there a little house we can rent from someone? Something newly built?"

"No, we mostly tear down houses here. Why, just last year we got rid of about four or five homes. And we might beat that number this year, because we've already destroyed three in the last few months."

The young hay-worker found the farmer's words disappointing. As he looked down the road toward the village, he said, "It seems like there's something happening here today."

"Yes, today there's a fair in town. But I'm not interested in that, since I've nothing to trade and no money to spend."

The couple walked over to the fairground and found that most of the sellers had already gone home. The only people there now were those whose animals were ignored by the buyers earlier in the day because of their poor condition. The evening fair was devoted less to trade and more to fun and games. There were performances by dancers and singers. There were places where, if you paid enough money, you could see strange-looking people and animals. And there were people there who could tell you about your future just by looking at your hands.

The young couple did not care much for the entertainment. They were hungry and thirsty, so they entered a tent that served soup and drinks. An old, witch-like, woman poured them each a bowl of hot soup. The man tasted it and immediately found it disgusting. He noticed, however, that the woman had a bottle of alcohol down below the counter. He passed his bowl back to her and made a motion with his head for her to put some of the alcohol into his soup. She did so. He tasted it and found it much more delicious.

After four more bowls of the same mixture, the man was completely drunk and complaining loudly about his troubles. He blamed most of his unhappiness on his wife, whom, he said he had made the mistake of marrying at the age of eighteen. His wife did her best not to pay any attention to what he said and quietly whispered to her baby.

"You know, I think that these fairs ought to allow people to be sold as well as animals," the young man continued, "If they did, I'd be the first to come and sell my family to any poor fool who'd take them!"

"Some people might make you an offer," said a few people around the drunken hay-worker.

"Well, then let them offer. My ears are open to it!"

"Please, Michael, I'm tired of this silly joke of yours," said the young man's wife, "Besides, you might one day be taken seriously. Now stop."

But the drunken man would not stop. All night, as he continued to drink more and more of that horrible soup, he asked for offers from the people in the tent. Everyone found it funny and laughed. His wife, however, became more anxious and upset.

"Alright, that's enough!" she cried, "I hope someone does take us away from you!"

"Did you all hear that?" asked Michael, "She wants to be sold! Now where's the seller? Is anyone a seller here?"

"I am," said a short man with a little round nose, "Alright, someone make an offer!"

"Start at two Guineas!" shouted Michael.

No one accepted the bid. Michael then told the seller to raise the price to three Guineas. Again, no one said a word.

"I'll tell you people what! Any of you can have her for five Guineas. As long as you're a good man and you don't be mean to her, she'll be yours until the day you die. I promise never to come and bother you about her, either. What do you say?"

"This is it! The last bid!" cried the seller.

"Alright! I'll take her for five Guineas!" said a voice from the doorway.

A sailor came walking into the middle of the room, looking directly at Michael as he approached. He took one more look at the wife being sold and then threw five silver coins, one at a time, down on the table in front of Michael. No one said a word. Most of the people in the tent, seeing that this was no longer a joke, had looks of surprise on their faces.

"This is for real, Michael. Do you realize that?" asked his wife.

"Of course I do! You agreed to this the other day. You said that if you could keep the kid, you'd let yourself be sold!"

"Is that true?" asked the sailor.

"Yes," answered the woman.

"Then our business is finished," said Michael, picking up the coins and putting them safely in his coat pocket.

The sailor gently took the newly purchased wife by her arm and said, "Let's go." She picked up her child and slowly followed the man toward the door. Just before going out, she turned around and threw her wedding ring at her former husband across the room.

"Me and Elizabeth-Jane are leaving you, Mike. We're hoping to be luckier with this man than we were with you. Goodbye!"

And then they were gone.

(end of section)