“Found the room empty, all the windows locked and doors as well…. Madame Charlett.” The man stated, wiping away sweat from his face.
“You say the child was ill…did you not?” Madame Charlett inquired.
“Very sick…not well to climb out of here…if ya please.”
The woman walked about the small room, it was mostly barren expect for a sleeping cot, worn rag dolls, and a small pile of clothing. However, there was a faint odor of sulfur in the air, almost undetectable to the untrained nose.
“I would have gone to the bobbies, but ain’t natural. So, the missues told me to fetch you. Never met one of your kind before…no offense.” The man paused.
“You mean a witch?” The woman replied.
The man flinched, “Right…you said it not me.”
“How old is the child?”
“Tis her seventh year…can you help us?”
“I will do my best…Tell no one of this, till we speak again. Please continue to tell those who ask that she is ill.” Madame Charlett ordered.
“Will do.”
Madame Charlett then nodded and turned to leave, the man allowed her to exit the room. As she entered the main living quarters, the man’s wife acknowledged her guest’s departure with a weak wave before she turned to cover her tears. Madame Charlett then exited the flat onto the busy London street. She heard the door shut behind her.
“Strange one indeed.“ Stated a disembodied voice.
“Did you see anyone besides us?” Madame Charlett replied.
“If you mean a lost soul, no…the child still lives for now.” The voice answered.
“We…Best get to it then.”