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coma—”
    â€œTess,” he said doubtfully. “You mean to say the Salem witch trials were merely a case of bad food?”
    â€œWell, don’t you think it remarkable that wherever in history you find spooky, devilish tales and hysterical witch-hunting, youalso seem to find this very problem with the grain?”
    â€œNobody else shares this view, among the experts,” Tobias chided. “Is this all science has come up with?”
    Science. Science was his new religion, as with everyone these days. Tess was at the end of her patience. “There are other, obvious possibilities, Tobias. Salem and all of New England had been through the Indian Wars. They’d seen bloodshed and scalping and terrible things, and these shocks and tragedies had wormed their way into their imaginations. They thought up witches to explain nightmarish visions that were really just violent memories.”
    â€œNo,” he said. “Something’s missing.”
    â€œTurns out she was right,” said a voice, and the couple turned to see their butler entering the room. Horrick was a portly man of fifty with reddish hair and beard, who looked rather like a worried orangutan.
    â€œWho was right?” asked Tobias.
    Horrick slammed down several books and old newspapers at a long table. “The spirit you met with at the graves. It spoke the truth. There were some who escaped the Salem witch trials. And I think I understand why your spirit called them ‘the Unseen Ones.’”

CHAPTER FOUR
    L ore. How Tess and Tobias loved it.
    Horrick knew they were captivated. “These escaped witches. When they left Salem, they went to a little town called Blackthorne.”
    Tess arched her back, trying to see what he’d brought, knowing she’d be the one who’d have to read through it in detail. “What have you got there?”
    â€œDid your research for you, as usual,” answered the butler. “These are old papers from the Times archive, original documents, letters, but this is the last of it.”
    Tobias stared. “The last of what, Horrick?”
    â€œThe last time I do this sort of thing.” Horrick’s voice descended, and he sent out a pervasive dread that Tess could pluck from the air. “It’s bad for the soul, these things you have me look into—you and her gone off all the time, leaving me alone in this house, reading on all manner of horrifying calamities—”
    Tobias was untroubled. “We count on you to dig this stuff up, Horrick. Double your salary.”
    â€œI can’t do that, sir.”
    â€œWhy not, Horrick?”
    â€œI don’t handle the money, the accountant does, excepting petty expenses.”
    â€œThen I’ll have him deduct two dollars a week for your complaining all the time.”
    Tess looked at Tobias, bemused, and said, “Don’t mind him, Horrick. If there’s any good hauntings we haven’t been to, he likes to be the one to find them.”
    â€œI always do find them,” bragged Tobias. “He just fleshes out the details. In fact, Horrick, why exactly do we bother with you?”
    Horrick sighed unhappily, familiar with the routine. “I’m not coming back, sir,” the butler said solemnly. “If you go off looking for these spirits, I’ll be done in this house. You engage in these hunts, and for no reason but for sport.”
    â€œAll hunts are for sport, Horrick. Deduct two more dollars for your impertinence,” ordered Tobias, and after Tess gave a disapproving look he said, “and add two dollars for your dramatic performance here.”
    â€œThat still leaves me two dollars down, sir.”
    â€œAnd well it should.” Tobias sighed. “What else did you find out?”
    Horrick lifted a very old page among the stacks. “It’s really quite an oddity,” he said. “You see here some older papers on the Salem trials of 1692,